Random Acts of Kindness
by Elizabeth Gray
Summary: A kind gesture can brighten someones day, even the world. For Clary it started out as only a sequence of horrible events, now join her on the quest of performing 30 Acts of Kindness to better her life...and the world.
1. Only the Beginning

Extraordinary

"Carry out a random act of kindness, with no expectation of reward, safe in the knowledge that one day someone might do the same for you" - Princess Diana

To say that Clary was having a crappy day would be the understatement of the year. If only her failed midterm, lost attempt at an extension for her huge paper, the rip in her favorite tights and the fact that her best friend just stood her up for a new, hot girl summed up her day no, this was the very beginning.

She groaned as the rain pelted at the library windows. She had initially been trying to finish up her paper but now, it had turned into "finding an excuse to stay longer since she forgot her umbrella this morning". After receiving the librarian glare for the twentieth time, she slammed the book closed and went to replace it in the shelves.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," she muttered, drifting through the towering wooden shelves, "what did I do to deserve this? I mean, I gave 30 cents to the homeless guy at the corner today, where is my good karma?" Checking the spine of the book to see where to proper place was, she slowly glanced up, up, up. "Crap."

Clary made her way to the computer, frazzled and slightly in pain due to the fall of step ladder and grumbling about the discrimination of short people in this library. She logged on to do one more check on her e-mail when of course, an ad popped up. Her mouse hovered over the ad, tempted to give the computer a malware, Trojan virus. _Click. _

**30 Ways to Carry Out Random Acts of Kindness Every Day**

Clary wanted to roll her eyes, great more people preaching about how to live life. She skimmed through the paragraph, snorting occasionally at the message of passing kindness on. The world sucks, any kindness that ever happens bounces right off.

"A cynic?" Clary whirled around to see a guy, not just any guy, a gorgeous guy with golden hair and eyes who was leaning casually on the library cart. _Maybe my day is getting better…._

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you were snorting…it made me think that we had a loose pig in here or something." Clary couldn't fight back the blush that spread over her cheeks.

"Well it's not exactly my fault. I was just reading this unbelievably cheesy web page about practicing random acts of kindness and how it would make the world a better place." The guy glanced over at the screen and shrugged.

"I don't see why it can't." Clary gapped at him.

"What? Are you serious? Do you honestly think that opening the door for someone would make the world a better place?"

"It's always the small things that add up."

"That's bull I mean, doesn't life just screw everything up? You forget that act of kindness and you focus on the bad things that happen, not the good." The guy raised his eyebrows.

"Alright…"he trailed off, not knowing my name.

"Clary."

"Ok Clary, why don't you tell me what happened to you that have made you this… pessimistic."

"This day, I mean I failed my midterm, ripped my favorite tights-"

"Wait-h-hold on, so you're saying that you don't believe in this because you failed a test and messed up your clothes? You don't believe that doing something nice for someone means anything because of your crappy day?" Clary looked at him blankly.

"Well…" The guy started laughing.

"That's not being cynical, that's being selfish!" He exclaimed.

"Wha-no-no it isn't!"

"Clary do yourself a favor and pull your head out of your own little bubble. Take a look around and then you'll find out why people are so obsessed with kindness."

"I am not selfish-"

"Really prove it!" The guy smirked as he gestured to the screen. "Perform all 30 acts of kindness and we'll see where we go from there." Clary rolled her eyes.

"I don't need to prove anything to you!"

"Ok fine then prove to yourself that you're not completely immersed in yourself. Besides, what could it hurt? It might even change your luck around." With that he started to push the cart around the corner and then, he was gone. Clary bit her lip. She didn't have anything to prove to that guy…she didn't even know his name. _Still…it would be nice to prove that I did do this and it didn't work…_

With that she started scrolling down.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Send someone a hand written note of thanks

Damn, that was going to be hard. She had no one to thank. Her mother already had her thanks every mother's day, birthday, and even on her birthday claiming that she didn't go through 14 hours of labor to not be rewarded. _Well…they did say random. _

Pen poised in hand, Clary prepared to write thanks to a total and complete stranger.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Kaelie was having possibly the worst break up of her life. She had rushed to the back bookshelves for refuge from the sickening sight of her ex-boyfriend making out with her best friend at one of the desks. She slid against the shelves, letting the tears fall as she sobbed quietly. She slammed her head against the shelf in frustration. _Thump. _

Sniffling she curiously looked down at the book that had fallen. It was an encyclopedia, the one that no one read and judging by the dust, it hadn't been touched in a while…except for the slim, white folded paper that slid out. Kaelie picked it up and folded it open.

_Dear Stranger, _

_No doubt you are very confused to find this in a book, a library book, a library book that no one had read in forever. Anyway I am here to pass on a message of kindness to hopefully cheer up your day. I want to say thank you. Thank you for choosing this book, this book which everyone looks over, ignores or just doesn't care about. This book in which so many authors put their hard work and effort only for it to be left to collect dust. On behalf of them and anyone who has actually used this book, I say thank you and that you have made a difference. _

_From, Clary Fray. _

Kaelie started smiling despite herself, and then giggling and then laughing. She had never read anything so…so appreciative over reading a book. Whoever this Clary Fray was- she surely was doing a good job of brightening up her day. Kaelie gently picked up the thick book and flipped through it. _Well…_she thought to herself, _I do have a research paper due. _

Clutching the note and the book to her chest, she grinned as she walked into the study hall, slightly smirking at her EX-boyfriend and her best friend's faces.

**Ok so that was the first chapter. There will be more but I want to hear your ideas and thoughts. What do you think should be an act of kindness? Have you ever performed or received any? Review, I really want to know. **


	2. Starbucks Stampede

**How I Met your Mother reference in here, see if you can find it! **

Starbucks Stampede

There were a lot of things Clary loved about living in New York. There were the beautiful skyline that twisted itself into the sky, there was the smell of car exhaust mixed with hot dogs that she had surprisingly come to love. But there were also the cons. The cramped, crushed subway cars, the sewer water that trickled down the street and most of all, the longest flipping line to ever form, every morning in a Starbucks.

Clary was an addict but her love affair with coffee wasn't enough to stand in the middle a Starbucks, with everyone pushing and shoving, with the baristas calling out the names of people who are not her. Most of all, she hated it when they pronounced her name wrong. I mean how can you mistaken "Clary" for "Swarly".

But here she was, standing in line about to pass out from exhaustion. She got up at 7a.m – how can there be this many people? She sighed as she thought about her next task for the day.

_Buy coffee for the person behind you when in Starbucks despite who it is._

She thought this was supposed to make her feel better, not worse. _I swear I'm going to stab the next person who screams out for a double mocha cappuccino. _She thought angrily. She bit back an insult as she was shoved forward by the crowd behind her.

She casually glanced behind her to see who was getting the lucky, free coffee today. If you looked in the dictionary for "professionalism", "sophistication", or "polished" you would find a picture of this guy. He had a sharp, crisp suit with a tie that was perfectly centered. His gripped his suitcase as if his life depended on it.

_Great, I get to treat a Wall Street rat to coffee. _Clary thought. _This is not fair; didn't he have enough money to buy his own coffee? _His phone vibrated as he held it up to his ear.

"H-hello?" he stammered. There was a tirade of squabbling coming out from the other end, nothing she could distinguish but from the look of pure fear of his face, she could tell it wasn't good. "Y-yes Mr. Mortmain." He nodded and she could have heard more but she was called up to order.

"Hi, can I have black, no sugar, and no milk." Clary like the bitter taste of coffee, and considering her state this morning, she desperately needed it.

"Name?"

"Clary and uhm…do you know that guy over there?" The barista raised her eyebrow as she glanced over at the guy speaking frantically into his phone.

"Oh that's Alec Lightwood. Poor guy, got stuck as the worst job ever- assistant to Axel Mortmain." Sympathy welled up inside of her when she heard that. Axel Mortmain was the most ruthless, bloodthirsty, shameless player to ever hit the stocks, going on at about 12 affairs even though he was married. Clary then felt guilt at how she had just assumed that Alec was one of them.

"What does he regularly order?"

"Same as you."

"Well…I'll take his bill." The barista raised her eyebrows but didn't comment as she punched it in.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Hey are you Clary?" It was Alec. Clary was still waiting for her coffee.

"Only if you're Alec." There was a light blush on his face as he spoke.

"I just wanted to thank you for buying me the coffee this morning."

"You're welcome." I shrugged, "it looked like you needed it."

"Yea I did…"he paused. "But uhm…ok how do I say this….I'm gay." He blurted out. Confusion struck her as she wondered why he was telling her this…then it hit her.

"Oh god…no I was-I wasn't trying to hit on you." She laughed nervously, "See I'm doing this thing called 30 Random Acts of Kindness and this one was to buy a total stranger a cup of coffee and yea…" She could feel her face burning. This wasn't making her feel very good. Alec cleared his throat.

"Oh well...uhm Clary. That sounds very…interesting. Thank you."

"Alec!" The barista called. "Clary!" They made our way to the table to get their coffee. The barista had a strange, pensive look on her face as she stared at Clary with her blue eyes.

"Have you…ever been to the Idris College Library?" She asked her.

"Yes…I go to school there." Her eyes brightened as she grinned at her.

"Have you ever written a note and put it in an encyclopedia thanking a random person for reading it?" She had found it. Clary glanced at the nametag- Kaelie.

"Uhm…yea." Kaelie started laughing.

"That was the best thing ever, I have to seriously thank you for improving my day and I was having a pretty bad one." Alec looked at Clary and raised his eyebrows.

"Uhm…write a thank you note to someone." Alec cracked a smile.

"Well I have to go. Thanks for the coffee Clary!" With that he walked out the door. Kaelie wiggled her eyebrows.

"Boyfriend?" I laughed shortly.

"So far from it. But uhm..thanks for the coffee Kaelie-"

"Wait, can I get you number? I mean it's so great what you're doing. I'd like to hear more about it."

Clary walked out of Starbucks that day with two acts of kindness accomplished. She had to admit…it made her feel better than she already did.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

**Thanks to bookworm24mjk for suggesting the acts and for everyone for reading. Please continue to come up with idea for acts of kindness, who knows, maybe it'll go over 30  
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	3. Backlash

Backlash

Their contempt of each other started at a very young age. She had stolen the only pink crayon in the box and of course, Clary's unicorn could not be complete without pink. The fight had cost 12 broken pencils, 1 jar of paint splattered all over the floor, a week of missed deserts and for Clary, a black eye.

Yes, it was safe to say that Clary disliked Aline. The resentment only culminated in high school when Aline became the smiling, popular, petite cheerleader while Clary stayed the short, red headed artist. They had taunted each other, tortured each other and tried to make each other's lives miserable…that is until now.

_Give an enemy a hug when they're feeling down._

Of course, Aline's name popped into her head. Clary sighed as she collapsed onto the bench. This was the hardest one yet. The other two had been with total stranger and this act…she knew this person, talked to her, yelled at her…resented her.

"You're not going to quit now are you?" She looked up and tried to control her shock as she saw the guy from the library. Clary sighed and shook her head.

"I don't know…I mean this one is a hard one." The guy looked over and read it.

"Hmm…I suppose you could always sneak a lizard into their bag while you're hugging them if it makes you feel better." Clary gave him a look.

"It's act of kindness…not acts of pure grossness." The guy chuckled.

"Then maybe you should start thinking about this project in a kinder way."

"What do you mean?"

"Why would people want to perform these acts for people? They don't randomly go and buy coffee for someone because they're forced to, it's because they want to and that's what's so great about it. Kindness is the willingness to help other people, that's why there's sharing is caring and all that other crap." Clary raised an eyebrow.

"So you're saying that I should start wanting to do these things instead of just trying to prove them wrong?" The guy shrugged.

"You should to get the full experience…or you could just take my lizard advice." Clary laughed. They guy started to turn away.

"Hey!" He stopped. "What's your name? 'Guy from the Library' is way too long of a title." He grinned.

"Jace. My name is Jace."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary spent days think of what she could do. But it was on a quiet, Friday night that fate really got her. The hallways were empty in the school, since it was very late and the weekend. Clary just needed to clear some things up with her professor before the weekend and was in a hurry to get home when she heard a small sound.

It was as small as a flutter but echoed off the hallway. It sound…like a sob. Curious, Clary approached the girl's bathroom door and slowly pushed it open. There, curled in a ball was the source of the sound-Aline. Clary could only stare at her with shock until Aline's head snapped up and her eyes rested on her. The sorrow turned into annoyance as soon as she realized who it was.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded.

"I-I just heard someone crying…I wanted to see if you were okay." Clary was surprised at how much those words were true.

"Well now you see, I'm fine okay? Now get out."

"I-is there something wrong?" Clary wanted to smack herself, what was she doing? Aline obviously wanted to be alone but…Clary couldn't just leave her here, lying vulnerable on the ground.

"Why do you care? You hate me anyway." Clary bit her lip as she tentatively edged closer to her.

"You think I hate you over a pink crayon?" To her surprise, Aline threw her head back and laughed.

"God, that was years ago." She quieted. "But there's more isn't there?"

"I don't hate you…I just-I don't understand you. I don't understand the significance of human pyramids and boyfriends and all of the things that you like. I don't hate you…it's just that we're so…"

"Different?" Aline finished. They sat in silence for a while. "My dad's been cheating on my mom for a while." She said quietly. Clary looked up in surprise. "Yea, over twenty years of marriage and my father's been screwing his assistant." She sniffled as she wiped her eyes. "Now they're getting a divorce, fighting over everything. He tells me that he probably won't be there for my graduation because Cheryl," she spit out her name bitterly, "is delivering soon." She looked at my shocked face.

"Yea he has a kid on the way with her. He wants me to move in with him and his new family...his new daughter but my mom-"she broke off and took a shaky breath. "I just-I worry about her." She started crying again. Her hand reached out and grabbed Clary's arm. Slowly Clary angled herself towards Aline and wrapped her arms around her petite form.

Aline tensed for a moment before relaxing. They held each other for a moment. "Thanks." Aline sniffed before pulling away. "I really needed that." Clary smiled.

"Glad I could be of help." As Clary got up and moved to the door. Aline's voice stopped her.

"Clary?" Clary looked back. Aline smiled. "I never hated you either." Clary grinned as she walked out. Sure Aline wasn't a friend…but she wasn't an enemy either and losing one enemy, one less person that dislikes you in this world made hers a little brighter.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Thank you to for her act of kindness. Keep on coming with those review and suggestions!


	4. Musical Tangles

** thank you for your idea in the previous chapter, I apologize for not including this in the last chapter but my computer went all funky and the name wouldn't come out so I am writing my thanks here. **

Music Tangles

"Hmm…anniversary?"

"No what are we- some old married couple?"

"You know you want to be Mrs. Simon Lewis."

"Hah! No keep guessing."

"Birthday?" Clary glared at him and punched him in the arm.

"It's nice to know that you know so much about me."

With every enemy, there is a friend and for Clary, the friend was Simon Lewis, the guy who had seen it all in her world, from her unhealthy obsession with eating paste to the start of her artistic passion. If anyone had seen them, they would be shocked that Clary and Simon even talked to each other. Tall, awkward Simon with his geeky t-shirts and glasses, aside from playing video games, had only one other hobby- being in a band.

_ Give your friend something they've always wanted. _

24 hours earlier

"What do you mean they can't play?" Clary demanded. The manager just glanced at her over his over sized glasses.

"Have you heard those guys? Their music would be able to skin the fur off a cat and they can never decide on a name. I'm sorry but I can't let a band with a name like 'Orgy in Hoboken' play here."

"Look I know that they can't decide on a name…or play good music but what if I tell you that they've improved…a lot." Clary bit the inside of her cheek after she said this, sure his wasn't exactly true but it was their only chance. The manager thought about it.

"What's this for?"

"Well I'm performing 30 Random Acts of Kindness and one of them is to give something to a friend, something that they've always wanted and Simon- Simon's always wanted to play in front of an audience and-"

"Ok, ok….if you can get me a recording of them not sounding so…rusty, I'll give them a chance."

"Great, thank you so much!"

"Wait, get it here by 8p.m tonight, no later."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"What the he- Simon, why aren't you practicing?" Simon looked up from the comic book he was reading and reached for another cheetos.

"Practicing?"

"With your band? I mean you guys still want to get better right? And pick a-uhh…cooler band name?"

"When did you become so interested in my band? I though you thought it sucked."

"I- no I have renewed faith in you and your band." Clary tossed her cell phone to him. "Call Eric, Matt and Kirk and schedule and impromptu band meeting. You guys are going to finally decide on a name."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Lawn Chair Crisis?"

"Nah…it sounds like we're coming from the suburbs of New Jersey."

"Sea Vegetable Conspiracy?"

"Ugh, I'm allergic to fish."

"A sea vegetable is not a fish!"

"I don't care, they're both in the sea right?" Clary rubbed her forehead as she watched them go at it. This was taking forever. By this time, they would never get anything done.

"Sexist Pigs?"

"Nahh…that would scare away groupies."

"Like you'd get any."

"You guys are so bad at this; I swear lint could collect faster." Clary groaned.

"Lint….hmm….lint….what about…Millennium Lint?"

"Yea that's awesome…"

"Cool…"

"Slick…"

"I'm just glad you're not considering 'the Fang Brothers' anymore." Simon muttered.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"What?" Clary exclaimed. Simon nodded grimly. "No-n-y-you can't!" She could see all of her dreams, her effort going down the drain in this very moment. Being kind was so freaking hard.

"Majority wins."

"What? Matt and Kirk like it?"

"Bribery…and they want to keep the garage." Clary collapsed on the outdated couch and put her face in her hands. _This isn't going to work. _Her mind screamed at her. _This isn't fair, not to me and not to Simon…he's been there for me through everything! _

"I know they aren't the best at music but ugh jeez…turning Eric's poems into a song? That's musical suicide….no that's just suicide."

"Simon didn't you write a song?" Clary said as she looked up.

"Uhm…what?"

"You did…I remember you showing it to me. Simon, hear me out, this may be the only way to save your band, propose your song." Simon looked bewildered as I spoke.

"Wha-but it's not even tha-"

"It's that or you're going to be singing about nefarious loins." Clary said firmly. "Just let me talk to them."

They were lounging around, doing nothing as Clary walked it. It infuriated her that she had to prove that they could perform…so that they could perform! And here they were lying around, doing nothing.

"Get up." She snapped.

"What?" Matt looked at her dazedly.

"You guys do want to be a band and make music right? I'm pretty sure 'the Rhythm of Farts' doesn't count as a song. If you guys want to become musicians, you guys are going to have to work for it. It won't happen while you're just lying here wasting time so either star making music or go home." Clary knew she was being pushy and harsh, but they were on a time crunch and she knew they could make good music…if they worked at it…hopefully.

"Oh and Eric? Your poems suck, we're not doing them." Clary added in satisfaction.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Present Time

Clary slowly led Simon into Taki's, blindfold still on his face. When the cool AC hit them, she peeled it off of his eyes. Simon looked around in confusion.

"What are we doing here?" Clary grinned.

"My favorite band is playing tonight." Simon's eyes wandered to the giant sign with the scripted letters spelling out "Millennium Lint." "You better get on stage. They're starting soon." Clary said.

"Wha-ha- you did this?" He sputtered out. Clary nodded. "Thank you!" He leaned in and hugged her. "Thanks Clare." He whispered and then ran off to join the rest of the band.

Clary stood leaning casually against the wall, nursing her diet coke. The tables had been pushed to create somewhat of a dance floor. Simon was setting up his drum set on stage. Taki's was full as the show started when Eric got on stage.

"Hello New York! This is Orgy in- I mean Millennium Lint! Ok, ok first we have a song written by my buddy here, Simon Lewis!" The music started, it was slow and steady but then went through a faster bridge, reaching a rapid crescendo of beats and strums of guitar and noise. Clary hummed and swayed to the beat, grinning. She had help make this happen, Simon had finally gotten to perform. He was just killing it on it drums.

"Dance with me." Clary whirled around to see Jace. He gently took the can of coke from her and placed it on a table.

"I barely know you." Clary laughed.

"Yet I have coerced you into a 30 step life plan making you less…prickly." Clary mocked shock.

"I am not prickly."

"Not anymore obviously, you made this night happen. Look at how happy your friend is." Clary glanced at the drums. Simon was going at it like never before, eyes closed with a grin of his face.

"Yea…" Clary smiled softly. "He deserves it."

"Dance with me...please." Clary took a breath as she slid her hands onto his arms, and his hands rested on her hips and together they swayed to the beat, not talking but occasionally laughing or smiling. That night was a night of celebration and joy, of accomplishments and dreams. As the music swelled, the noise escaped through the cracks of the golden lit windows and into the open doors of homes, to the ears of strangers on the sidewalk. It played and wrapped and twisted itself around every person, building, bridge, ensnaring the skyline in its last crescendo.

**R&R please! The next one will hit a little more closer to home, but keep coming up with suggestions, I really appreciate them! **


	5. Speak Powerfully

Speak Powerfully on Behalf of the Powerless

Two weeks ago, Magnus Bane was a perfectly healthy individual living off of his parents like any other high school student would do. Two weeks ago he had access to food, water, clothes and showers. Two weeks ago he had parents who loved him and doted on him. In two weeks, his entire world shifted.

_Stand up for someone in need_

Clary gripped the paper. They just don't make this easy don't they? Clary sighed as she closed her eyes, the sound of pedestrian traffic and the city melting away. She never had anyone do that for her. Clary wasn't really one to be bullied but she was never noticed, or when she was she was just the weird girl who painted and didn't have any friends except for that nerdy kid.

_ Crash! _"How does it feel to sleep on cement faggot?" Clary's eyelids flew open. She got up and started to head towards the cause of the noise, barely registering the annoyed grunts and exclamations thrown her way as she pushed her way through the crowd. _Why is it that the good deed always finds me? _She thought as she came to a small clearing of cement.

She gasped as she took in the scene. He looked so vulnerable, not even putting up a fight with his head tilted down. They were gathered around him in a semi circle; it was like putting on a show. Clary wanted to puke at the sick display.

"So your parents finally put you out huh? That's good we need to quarantine people like you from your disease." One of them spat at him. The figure on the ground only chuckled.

"We all know that you got syphilis from Sara Banner at the Christmas Party Marcus, the only person that should be quarantined is you." Clary held her breath as the boy reached back and smacked his across the face. Clary glanced around looking to ask anyone, anyone for help.

But to her dismay, most people just averted their eyes or walked quickly in the other direction. _Stand up for someone in need…_It echoed in her head over and over again. Her mother used to tell her: _As an artist, you make visible, the invisible. _

Clary took a breath. That didn't exactly have to pertain to art either. "Hey!" She snapped. _Oh god, hey? What kind of entrance was that? _But there was no time to falter as they turned to her. "L-leave him alone!" She cursed herself for the slight tremble in her voice.

"Piss off little girl. This isn't any of your business." Anger rose in Clary. Nobody calls her little girl.

"My name is not little girl and I will not 'piss off' as you put it. Obviously you're too immature to handle adult words so I will use your vernacular" Clary thanked god for her mother putting her through those extra English lessons at school. "Any reason that you have against him can be settled in a calm conversation which illuminates how pointless this fight is and how stupid you are for picking one."

One of them stepped up to her. "Are you calling us stupid?" Clary gulped her pride and anger faltering. _Speak powerfully on behalf of the powerless…_ _This is going to get my ass kicked. _Clary thought. She took another breath as she stepped back. _Come on Clary, be brave. _She told herself.

"I don't want any trouble. But I would appreciate it if you would just leave him alone." She said as calmly as she could.

"Why should we let this pathetic faggot live?" _ Fag- oh god _Clary's thoughts came to a startling halt. She would never guess, in New York…She glanced at the man on the ground, his eyes cast downwards. He looked pitiful. She had wandered in the midst of a hate crime.

"Because your reason is a horrible one." She couldn't stop the shaking in her voice. She had heard of them but now she was in the middle of one. "Because it's sick and twisted and depraved."

"Oh so now we're the monsters?" The other one stepped up, Clary could smell the foulness on his breath, and she turned her head and gagged.

"Leave them alone." She could feel his presence as he stepped behind her. _He's just everywhere now…_

"Herondale…you know these guys?"

"Even if I didn't, what gives you the right to mess with them?" His question hung in silence for a while. By this time, we had attracted quite a crowd that had clustered around us, eyeing the boys with suspicion.

"Is there a problem here?" Relief flooded my veins as I saw a police officer step through. The boys looked around.

"This isn't over faggot lovers." They turned and pushed through the clusters of people. I walked over to the guy sitting on the ground.

"Are you okay?" He looked up and I was most surprised to see annoyance in his cat like eyes.

"You really didn't need to do that, I don't want your pity."

"You seemed like you needed help Magnus." Jace said as he stepped beside me. Magnus snorted.

"I can't believe I'm talking to the golden boy of Idris Academy." Clary froze. Idris Academy was the most prestigious private school in the city and if Jace-

"Things change high school differences hardly mean anything out in the real world." Clary knelt down. She closed her eyes, standing up means more than just fending off bullies.

"Do you want to shower?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Steam escaped the doorway crack by the time Clary had come into the living room with the requested drinks. Jace was lounging on the couch, flipping through the channels.

"I could have handled it today." Clary said quietly as she set the drinks on the table.

"Oh really?" His amused voice infuriated her.

"Yes, I didn't need you to save me."

"Hmm…I think you did or the petrified look on your face must have been a total act."

"Look I don't need some pompous rich boy from Idris Academy to bail me out of any situation." Clary turned but was stopped by the sudden grab of her wrist. She gasped at how close they were. Jace's golden eyes glared into hers.

"Obviously acts of kindness still haven't made you less judgmental. What makes you think you know anything about me?" The door flew open.

"Ahh…it's been such a long time since a nice, long sh-" Magnus came in and glanced at our position. I ripped my wrist away and sat on the loveseat, blushing furiously. "Hmm..Herondale getting it in with the red head…nice." Jace rolled his eyes.

"Here's the tea you wanted Queen Magnus." He grinned as he sipped the liquid.

"Mmm…thank you darling."

"So uhm..what happened to you?" That question escaped Clary's lips before she was able to stop it. She blushed even more furiously at how rude that sounded. "I'm sorry I-" Magnus shook his head.

"No need, I hate people who tip toe around the subject. Now as to what happened that's a fairly easy explanation. My parents are- well they're good people but they're very strict in their views both morally and socially. I was the perfect son. The one who went to the best school, got good grades, had girlfriends etc...it was like The Cleavers on steroids.

"Anyway two weeks ago i-I uhm…I kissed someone." Jace raised his eyebrows.

"That's it? You kissed someone?" Magnus glared at him.

"I kissed a guy you insensitive brat. Anyway word out and reached my parents. On their short list of things morally acceptable, gay people were not on them so they kicked me out and left me with…" He laughed bitterly. "With noting really."

"How horrible...your own parents?" Clary gasped. She was disgusted at his parents, how could they do that to their own child? Magnus shrugged.

"What can you do? Prejudice and ignorance will always exist in the world. There's no stopping it." There was silence was his words, a deep and heavy one, mourning everything that Magnus lost on that night.

"So...where do we go from here?" Jace's voice cut in.

"Uhh...my mom will be home soon…" I glanced at the clock. As kind as she was, I wasn't sure how she would feel with a complete stranger off the street staying with us. "We can't just let you go back onto the street." I turned to Jace. "Any ideas?"

"You're asking me for ideas?" He raised his eyebrows.

"This is serious. Any ideas?" Jace sighed.

"Uhm..well my parents do have an apartment. That is if you don't mind my father's occasional hooker hook up." Magnus grinned.

"Happily." Jace slid the key out of the ring and handed it to him.

"Make yourself unknown and invisible unless you want to be caught for B&E." Magnus nodded and I walked the both of them out the door.

"Wait." I called after Jace. He stopped and turned around. "I'm-I'm really sorry for just judging you like that. It was wrong and-and I was wrong. I take back everything I said and I want to thank you for what you did today." I stopped and sighed. "I will deny this in the future but I really did need you today so thanks for coming through."

I looked up and gasped at how close he was. I could smell the scent of sunshine and metal that clung to him. I breathed in, closing my eyes. "It's no problem really." He said as he abruptly straightened up. He smirked at my shocked expression as he walked down the hallway. I slammed the door. _Damn you Jace Herondale…_

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

**Thank you everyone for reading. I am so honored and happy to see that people have been inspired by this story and are trying to do this in the real world. Out of all of them I hope that you perform this task. In my opinion it is the most difficult. Standing up in the face of ignorance and prejudice isn't easy for you, much less someone else. But please, speak powerfully on behalf of the powerless and question the intentions of the walls that you build and break. Handle these situations with integrity and dignity because prejudice and ignorance will always exist, it's just how you deal with it that counts. **


	6. A Cup of Coffee

**Based on real experience folks. **

A Cup of Coffee

Maia Roberts would have never in a million years pictured herself here. She groaned in disgust after wiping off the left over borsht from her new shirt. _That'll leave a stain. _She thought bitterly as she glanced at the giant red stain that spread through the stark white nylon. That was the second time this week. She sighed as she threw the dirty paper towel into the trash.

"And they say not all New Yorkers are rude." She muttered as she went to take out the trash. This was bad. She was running low on funds and replacing clothes. She couldn't even remember the last time she went out to a movie not to mention done something other than scraping oil off of a pan when the cook forgot to use the non-stick spray.

She was greeted by her boss holding out a pad and paper. "Michelle's sick" she said, "You'll have to take over her shifts." Maia suppressed the urge to groan. You'd think that being out front is way more fun than being in that stuffy kitchen but after the dirty glares, food stains and outbursts she had received from customers- the job got old fast.

She sighed as she walked over to a woman with a kid sitting in a booth. "Good afternoon, may I take your order?" She asked, forcing the cheery tone and chipper smile.

"I'll have the…special." _Oh God more borsht? _Maia scribbled that down on her pad, trying to mask her horror.

"Anything else?"

"Francine would you like to order?" The little girl lifted her head to meet Maia's eyes. Her eyes widened in fear as they quickly shifted to the ground. She whispered something so low that the breeze swept over her words.

"I'm sorry sweetie, what did you say?" Maia leaned down in hopes that she could hear her. The girl cleared her throat and repeated the same thing…just as low. Maia sighed. _This was going to be a long day…_

Maia lifted the plate and found her hopes scattered. No tip. She picked up the receipt and flipped it over.

_You're a horrible waitress, thanks. _

Maia didn't know whether to burst out laughing or ripping this up into tiny bits. But she only sighed and continued to deliver the used plates to the dishwasher. She was expecting so much more when she moved here. She was away from the security of her parents, of the small white picket neighborhood she lived in, of the neighbors who thoughts she was weird or unnatural.

Yet somehow in the middle of things, she found herself more of an outsider here than ever. The bell rang, alerting her to another customer.

"I'll be right there!" She called. She hurried as she tied a knot with her apron and grabbed her pad, bracing herself for another nightmare. She was surprised to see a small red head sitting at the corner booth. In her hands, she clutched a white sheet of paper. She glanced around nervously. Maia shrugged and walked up to her. "What can I get you?" She asked. The girl smiled.

"Just a cup of coffee." Maia raised an eyebrow. She didn't really have time or the patience for any lingerers.

"Are you sure about that?" The girl nodded. Maia sighed as she scribbled it down on her pad. The coffee was ready in less than a minute.

"Hey did I do something wrong?" Maia turned around, surprised the girl was talking to her.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know you seemed pretty annoyed when I ordered." Maia sighed and glanced around, her boss was nowhere in sight. She'd probably lose tips over this but by now; her nerves were so fray she couldn't care less.

"Okay look I just got borsht thrown on me for the second week in a row; I haven't been tipped in three days. I haven't been out with my friends in two weeks. So excuse me if I'm a bit touchy right now if you want to nurse your cup of coffee because I just don't have time for that." She snapped. Maia released a breath, not realizing how good it felt to just let it out.

"Oh." Maia's cheeks reddened as she realized that she had just yelled at a customer. "Well that sucks." Maia looked at her in surprise, no demands for her manager, no boiling hot coffee on her skin. "I'll be sure to be out of your hair soon." Maia blinked.

"Uh…ok thanks…enjoy your coffee I guess." She shook her head as she walked away. _People these days…_

She glanced around, picking up the empty coffee cup. The red head had left a few minutes ago. She flipped the receipt back.

_Thank you._

Maia smiled, not being able to help it. It was weird how two words could have such an effect on her. Her eyes widened as they glanced at the bill on the desk. That girl gave a twenty dollar tip to a three dollar cup of coffee.

"Thank you." She whispered. She took the cup back.

"Roberts, you've been neglecting a customer." Her boss hissed. Maia glanced around. "He's been here ever since that red head came, just looking around. Take his order and get rid of him. We're closing soon." Maia sighed and walked over to him. He was blonde, good looking and for some reason had an amused smile spread over his lips.

"What can I get you?"

"Just a cup of coffee."

_Leave a generous tip._

**Sorry this is so short. There are longer entries coming. Please keep sending suggestions! **


	7. Sorrow

That thorny path, those stormy skies,

Have drawn our spirits nearer;

And rendered us, by sorrow's ties,

Each to the other dearer.

BERNARD BARTON, _Not Ours the Vows_

12:00 a.m

Clary's feet squeaked on the shiny, ceramic floor as she sprinted through the halls. _God, please don't get me arrested for B&E...help thy neighbor? _The slow footsteps of the security guard were drawing closer and closer and she frantically searched for an unlocked classroom, her papers creasing at the tight grip of her fingers. She whipped around to see the golden shine of the flashlight. _Here's goes the end of my educational career... _

The Previous Week

"What's another one...Clary Fray?" Clary snapped up to meet the teacher's burning glance. Her mind had been idly wandering out the window to the busy pedestrians below and now she's going to pay for her lack of attention.

"I'm sorry I...didn't hear the question." She muttered as she avoided the teacher's gaze. There was a dramatic sigh.

"Aline would you please tell Clary one of the emotions that the character had to overcome?" Aline shot Clary an apologetic smile.

"Sorrow I suppose." She said.

"Why do you think that is such a powerful, all consuming emotion as described in this chapter?"

"Maybe because...Sorrow is universal. It feels like that to everyone, any person on Earth has to have felt as sad and as desperate at one point in their lives."

"Okay, where do you see such sorrow, even now in your own lives." Hands shot up as the teacher chuckled. "Write them down please." Clary glanced at her piece of paper, her mind going blank. Sorrow...sorrow...sorrow...She was only 16, when had she ever felt sorrow? Sure, she's felt sad but to feel sorrow...Her mind couldn't seem to stray, the legerity from the last few seconds flew out of her mind now that it was buzzing. Sorrow...sorrow...sorrow...

The words were still echoing in Clary's mind as she walked down the hallways. Sorrow...sorrow...sorrow...How was there so much and she didn't even notice? How deeply was she really seeing the world? Her hand drifted to her locker and methodically started twisting the knob. Clary never knew her father; he died when she was young. Was that considered an act that provoked sorrow? She wasn't sure, she had never really felt anything for him, her feelings towards a father figure hadn't even begun to develop. She sighed as she slammed her locker shut. She was getting sad even thinking about it.

_Sadness can be cured with a smile, cheer someone up when they are down. _

Sorrow exists everywhere, how exactly could Clary fix the majority of the world who was surrounded by sadness? Clary sighed as she leaned back in her chair, leaving her bottled water and sandwich untouched. She scanned the cafeteria, looking at all of her classmates, tired, run down. School, life had brought them down with their own weights and sadness swept in. It didn't have to be the entire world...maybe it could be just her world.

"So I was doing your mom-"

"Simon!" She exclaimed, grabbing his arm as the idea swept into her mind.

"Whoa, I was just kidding, I mean not that your mom's not attractive. I mean for a woman of her age-"

"How spotless is your record?" Simon's mouth open and shut silently as he starred at her, wondering what her next crazy plan was.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

It took a week to make all of the signs. They were small, post it notes, flyers, each one containing a vibrant mix of colors as words, beautiful words swept across the page hoping to push away the sorrow. The easy part was over now the hard part- getting in. Clary hoped it to be a surprise. Admittedly it would be odd for her to be walking around the school during lunch posting signs on people's lockers. So here she was, running through the hallways desperately looking for an escape.

It seemed to easy a few hours ago. Just pick the lock (you wouldn't believe how fragile the lock is), stick the posters, run and hopefully don't get expelled from school. How the heck was she supposed to know that the security guard was on duty for tonight? The footsteps were coming closer and closer. Clary closed her eyes and took a breath, already imagining the disappointment in her mother's eyes.

"Clary?" She heard a voice exclaimed incredulously. Clary opened her eyes to find Luke standing in front of her, his flashlight illuminating the small area.

"Luke? What are you doing here?"

"Your mom got worried and sent me to check for you. The lock was broken." He said, his voice, dry. "Now would you please explain to me why you're lurking around the school in the middle of the night?"

"I-you- you're going to think I'm insane." Clary sighed. Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Try me." So she told him everything, about the list, about her acts of kindness and about how she had to break in to do this. She wasn't sure about Jace yet so she left him out of it. Luke nodded slowly.

"You're right, it is insane." Clary sighed, defeated. There went her act of kindness. "But the best ideas are." Clary looked up at him, incredulous. He was actually approving this? But that wasn't the most shocking part. The most shocking part was when he grabbed half the stack.

"Let's hurry up." He said, "We only have about an hour before the security guard comes back from coffee."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Imogene rubbed her eyes as she entered school. After nine years of teaching here, she had lost it. She lost the passion, the vitality of young people chipped away by stress, by her failing marriage, by missing homework...She sighed as she pulled open the doors to Alicante High. She was instantly confused as to the flurry of activity fluttering around. Seniors this awake at 7:30? That was unheard of! She weaved her way through traffic, glancing at all of the papers in the student's hand. She closed the door to her classroom, muffling the sounds of excitement. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the paper left on her desk. Golden colored the page with red and orange appearing in wisps around the words.

"Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength."

She held the paper, the colors creasing underneath her fingers. She had never really considered herself strong. She was quiet, soft spoken, she left her upper house classes coerce her into no homework for a week for God's sake! But as she thought about the shambles of her life and her job, she wondered why she hadn't given up yet. She wondered how long if it would for anyone else to give up? Her fists clenched. No, she wasn't going to give up. If she was holding on for this long, she was going to do it for a bit longer. Her class filed in laughing and talking. Imogene did something she hand never done before. _Slam! _The textbook hit the desk as the class went quiet.

"Open your books to page 175, we're going to learn today."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary smiled at the exclamations of surprise and confusion. She watched smiles spread over the faces of her classmates.

"We did a pretty good thing Fray." Simon said as he stood next to her, watching. She smiled and nodded.

"Yea...we did." Out of the corner of her eyes she almost thought she saw a golden flash disappear out the door with a fluttering white paper in his hands.


	8. Speaker for the Trees

**Ok so I recently went camping and got the idea for this story. Yes there is a place in New Jersey called Point Mountain and yes I actually had to hike up there….with the poison ivy. **

Speaker of the Trees

"_Catch! calls the Once-ler.  
>He lets something fall.<br>It's a Truffula Seed.  
>It's the last one of all!<br>You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds.  
>And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs.<br>Plant a new Truffula. Treat it with care.  
>Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air.<br>Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack.  
>Then the Lorax<br>and all of his friends  
>may come back."<br>― Dr. Seuss, __The Lorax_

Clary adjusted her sweater that was currently tied around her waist. It was sweltering, one of the worst heat waves and was Clary lounging in her air conditioned living room, sipping lemonade with her mom? That would be the logical, reasonable thing to do on this kind of day…but Clary was never one for being reasonable…or logical.

"Alright, I'm glad you're here! I know the weather is a bit…unbearable but remember each drop of sweat plants new trees, gives birth to new life!" Charlotte grinned as she climbed on the bus. It was always fun to see the new volunteers and even more amusing to see them work in this weather. Clary took a another swing from her water bottle, feeling the heavy, hot air press down on her neck even from the relief of the open window. The rolling greens of New Jersey flew past her as the bus careened dangerously on the highway, occasionally swerving to the left. It had taken her a while to get to this one, months of filing applications and she had almost forgotten about it until the email showed up.

_Do something universal for the universe- take care of our Earth, before we don't have one to care for. _

They had chosen her right before the worst heat wave of the century. The bus screeched to a stop as groans rose from all of the rows. Clary sighed as she pulled herself up, feeling the old material from the seat cover stick to her skin. It wasn't even ten o' clock and already her body was screaming to be home in the air conditioned bliss. _What a city kid moment…_she thought wryly.

The smell of burning rubber off the pavement stung Clary's nose as she filed off the bus and into a line under the pressure of the sun. Charlotte got up and addressed the group.

"Alright now we are going to Point Mountain, can anyone tell me what a mountain is?"

"A giant hill!" Someone yelled. Charlotte chuckled.

"Close, it is a geological land feature having an elevation of 1,000 feet or more. Point Mountain was actually 994 feet but Point Hill sounded stupid to the locals so they brought up rocks and piled it on until they got their 6 feet. So when we actually start to climb up there, you will see a lot of giant boulders on top of each other. And what we're going to be doing up there is sort of a….an annual cleanup. Just gather debris and plant new trees."

Long branches reached out, entangling themselves with others from the path and the long grass grew on their side of their trampled companions. As much as Clary hated hiking, she had to admit the dome shaped roof and padded trail was cool to walk on. Then she saw the boulders. They were large, bulky with moss covering patches of the gray. Clary bit her lip as the hard surface irritated her sensitive hand. She pulled herself up and slowly slid over one, only to have her foot slide.

Her mouth opened to yelp but was silenced by a hand grabbing her forearm and pulling her up. Her mouth closed as she looked up and saw Jace Herondale raising his eyebrows at her.

"You know you could try not to crack your head open, I'm sure that's not good for the trees." He remarked as Clary rolled my eyes. She shifted my bag which seemed very cumbersome to handle now and started moving forward. The group was far ahead as Jace and Clary lumbered along.

"What are you doing here?" Clary asked, looking straight ahead.

"What do you mean? Here as in, in this forest or in this great, state of existence?" He smirked.

"You know what I mean."

"I'm just performing a civil duty to the world and to humanity…same as you. By the way….how is the list going?"

"Well I'm here aren't I? So I guess it's going…" Clary trailed off. Jace shook his head.  
>"You still don't get it." He sighed.<p>

"Get what? It's great that I'm doing things for people and changing stuff and all but really what is a tree going to matter in a lifetime?" Jace shook his head and chuckled.

"You have no idea."

The stopped in a small clearing lined with rocks. "Alright, I'll give you guys a minute to catch your breath and enjoy the view." Charlotte said and she placed her clipboard on a nearby rock. Clary turned and the view took her breath away. She was used to city skylines but the country was an entirely different story. The patches of golden seemed to arrange themselves like a patchwork quilt with a bushy, green border of trees completing the design. She could see everything from the rolling hills which squeezed close behind each other to the small steeple on the top of an incline.

"Wow…" She breathed.

"Kind of makes this more worth saving doesn't it?" Jace asked quietly next to her. The answer was clear and hung in the air as they both gazed out at the expansive countryside.

"Okay so what you guys are going to do is overlap rocks and plant trees. When rain falls, the water falls straight down the mountain, eroding it and making a path but now the path is too dangerous to walk up so we need you to divert the water somewhere else. Half of you will be placing rocks and the other half will be planting trees. We will assign you an area with a partner. If any one of you feels dizzy or sick, come to me straight away okay?" They all chimed in response.

The good news: Clary didn't have to lift ten pound boulders and place them accordingly, the bad part: she got Jace as a partner. She felt the seeds roll in her hands as she walked so many different sizes and shapes. She was lucky; she got the top of the mountain. The weather here was much more bearable than down there.

"I wonder what kind of trees we'll plant…" she mused out loud.

"A wait and see tree I would think." Jace said. Clary glanced at him.

"Really? I would never think that I would have to wait for a tree to grow."

"Well you know what they say…patience is a virtue. Besides, come back here in a few years and you'll see your tree all grown up."

"Hmm…we'll see…" Clary said.

"What? Is the weather so bad that you can't stand it? I think you breathed in too many subway fumes." Jace commented. Clary shrugged.

"A lot can change in a few years." Clary sighed.

They reached their destination. Clary, making sure to keep a good distance from Jace began scooping out dirt to plant the seed.

"You're doing it wrong." Clary raised an eyebrow at Jace. "The dirt is supposed to be deeper." Jace reached over and dug a deeper hole. Clary sighed in frustration.

"What exactly am I supposed to do? Take out a ruler and measure it?" She snapped. She didn't mean to be so snippy but the heat was getting to her.

"Guess….not everything has to be definite." Jace dropped the seed and covered the hole, patting it with his shovel.

"Do you always speak in cheesy, motivational banners?" Clary asked. Jace smirked.

"Only to you."

Clary was down to her last seed. It was an oval, brown and smooth. She rolled it between her fingers as she searched for a place to put it. There was a small clearing, mulch covering the ground. She sighed as she bent down, her knees sore and wiped the sweat off her forehead.

"Hey Jace!" She called. He walked over.

"You hollered?"

"Do you…want to help me plant this one?" He inspected the seed.

"Interesting, I can't quite say what type of tree this is."

"How about a wait and see tree?" Clary smiled. They dug the hole, being sure to smooth out the sides. Clary carefully placed the seed at the bottom, being aware of how close she was to Jace and she leaned down. His breath blew into her face and she tried not to let it distract her.

"Do you have it?" His breath smelled like mint as she pulled away. She could just nod, hoping that the blush could pass as a side effect of the heat. They covered the hole and Jace reached over and slid a pocket knife out.

"Oh now I see your real motivation for being up here." Clary said, staring at the blade. Jace laughed.

"If I wanted you dead, my motivation would have involved a body bag, I'm not that messy." He reached over and carved a J.C into the tree.

"I thought we were supposed to be saving trees not killing them." Clary protested.

"Calm down I didn't cut deep enough into the bark to do any harm any way it's a marker. For the next twenty years." Clary snorted.

"We'll see." But as they walked away, Clary glanced back at the small clearing, at the fantastic view. How many of these were going to be left? How much of the natural world is going to survive in the next 10, 20 years? Today she saved a part of it; today she made a difference to the mountain. She smiled at the tree. _Please let it stay there in 20 years…_

**Decades Later**

Cassandra raced through the trees, taking her as fast as her small legs could take her. She hated her brother, always making fun of her for believing in silly things like tree fairies. The path felt natural to her as her parents took her here all the time. Her small palms ran through the letters J.C which were now withered and eroded with age but they were still there.

Cassandra's sights were set on the tree next to it. It was _her _tree, the one she escaped to in the leafy canopies. It was one of the largest trees here and she was able to climb almost all the way to the top. Mama said that it had been there when she was young and she had always remembered where it was. Cassandra gripped the trunk and heaved herself up to a thick branch. The leafs tickled her face and she leaned forward to look at the view- the rolling hills, the steeple on the incline and the fields of gold outlined with green tufts of trees.

"Wow…"she breathed.


	9. Light the Night

Light the Night

The first time Clary heard about it, it was just an opportunity for 3 hours of community service. It was apparently a regular thing for Alicante to participate in this kind of stuff.

_ Help out your local charity, participate with others to better today's world._

**LIGHT THE NIGHT WALK**

October 5 from 5:30pm to 9:00pm

Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and raise money for a cure to Leukemia and Lymphoma

Meet at 5:30 at South Street Seaport

Check with Mr. Burt to sign up

**Join Team Alicante: 3 hours of Community Service as well as raising money for a good cause**

Clary glanced at the flyer with disinterest. Walk across the bridge at night? It would be freezing and Clary would be tired as hell when they got into Brooklyn.

"You thinking about signing up?" Simon asked, as he shifted his bag. Clary shrugged.

"Nah…I'd rather go back to my warm house and lay on the couch or something." Simon smiled a grin so wide Clary was sure it would split his face in half. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?"

"That's a shame." He said. Clary looked at him.

"Why? A lot of other people are going." Simon shook his head and chuckled.

"I meant that's a shame for you…since I signed you up."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary glanced at the clock, her highlighter never lifting off of the page. She had to finish this before 5:30 and so far it wasn't looking too good. Her feet couldn't stop moving, scratching her old running sneakers even more. She growled in frustration as the minute hand moved a little closer to the 6. With a flourish, she whipped out her pen and wrote the last annotation before shoving everything in her backpack.

"Mom, I'm going to Light the Night. Don't wait up!" Her mother's distracted reply didn't reach her as she swept out the door. She could kill Simon for this. Now, she could be slowly taking her time on homework but now she was going to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge at night.

The Seaport was packed by the time she got there. Clary grabbed a white necklace with shinned green light when you pressed a button and put it around her neck. She pinned the red ribbon on her shirt. Red mean general support, gold meant you were walking in memory of someone and white meant that you were a survivor. After signing in and getting her lit up balloon, she was now on a quest to find Simon.

"Clary! Clary!" Clary whipped around and was relieved to see Simon in the midst of the swarming crowd. She shoved her way over to him. "We're going to start walking soon!" Clary, despite herself, couldn't help herself from smiling at the sea of red, gold and white balloons.

The streets were crowded with screams and urges of encouragement. Clary tugged on the wire of her balloon, making a narrow collision with someone's face. The precession was slow and steady through the streets of New York as traffic honked a symphony at them. Clary didn't seem to feel the coldness or soreness of her feet as she was swarmed with hundreds of walkers.

"I've never seen such a turn out!" She heard a woman say. Even through the windows of upstairs apartments, she could see the red balloons floating in the windows. The entire downtown area was at a standstill, all eyes on the train of people making their way to the bridge. Clary set her first step on the inclining pavement as people made their way through, camera flashing with frozen moments captured.

The city lights glowed, illuminating the water on the East River. Clary couldn't help but place her hand on the frozen, strong metal wire. The bridge held through so many things and was there throughout her entire life. It'll probably hold long after she's gone and now she was walking on it. She was walking to find a cure to cancer. The idea seemed to foreign and advanced to her but think about how technologically forward it was to build at bridge stretching across the East River to people in those days.

The rusted metal and peeling paint seemed to hold her down as she tried not to pay attention at the startling drop below the gaps of the wooden walkway. She had already lost Simon in the crowd a while ago, but somehow she wasn't bothered. She'd find him later because now you couldn't find anyone.

Clary found herself stopping at the side to admire the beautiful view of the city skyline. It was strange how a city of such business could create a scene so peaceful.

"Isn't that sort of cliché to look at?" Clary's lips twitched in annoyance. It was him again coming to spoil the moment.

"If it is than why do people come all the way around the world, climb up the bridge to see it?" Jace was quiet for a moment.

"I don't know mankind has always been way too proud." She turned around and glanced at him.

"I see a prime example right here." He rolled his eyes.

"Come on and walk with me, you're impeding traffic." Her protest was cut off by his arm pulling her along with him.

"So why are you on this walk?" Clary said as she took a swing from her water bottle. Jace shrugged.

"This is probably one of my last chances." Clary looked at him.

"You know this walk is an annual thing right?"

"No, my last chance to do this before college and work and everything. My last chance at saving the world or at least contributing to saving it."

"No one can save the world." Clary said softly. Jace looked at her and grinned.

"We'd all like to think that we can." There was silence for a moment.

"Is that why people are kind? They think they can change something or someone?" Clary said. Clary had felt good about doing all those deeds yes but the pride of being able to make someone happy just by doing something small…it was indescribable. Jace sighed.

"You have to understand, to be truly kind there are no ulterior motives. No one thinks 'well I want to change something today, I'll just go be nice to some random stranger' kindness doesn't' work like that. People always think about themselves but really, it's just, if even for one second, we think about someone else for a change, we change the world whether we realize it or not."

Clary glanced back at the skyline, so many people, living, breathing people with family and friends and their own lives. People who have never met each other and probably never will, people who have the possibility of being kind to each other and then never seeing each other again, it was hard to warp her head around.

"I still don't think the skyline is anything special." Jace said. "But this," he gestured around to the long line of people, "this many people gathering together to perform an act of kindness, this makes a lasting impression." Clary glanced around and smiled. _Thanks Simon…_she thought.

They reached the halfway point with the American flag flapping wildly around n the pole. She glanced up at the sky, at the luminous quarter moon. She had never felt so small amongst the group of people. She felt something warm grip her hand and looked down in surprise at Jace. He lifted her hand that was holding the balloon.

"You want to make a lasting impression right? I don't know how long this balloon will float around but-"

"Wait." Clary worked the wire off of the red stick switch. She shoved it in her pocket. "For memory." She grinned. She could feel Jace's hand envelop hers as she struggled not to allow her presence to affect her thinking. She focused on the red balloon bobbing in the air. She could feel the wire slipping through her fingers as the wind gently pulled it out of her grip. Her eyes stayed on the balloon as it navigated its way through the dark night. _Please stay up there for a long time, _she thought, _please make it count, please make me matter…_

"Come on, we should finish the walk…" Jace pulled her along. Clary followed willingly. That night, he didn't let go of her hand once. That night for once in her life, Clary noticed at the ground was the place containing the stars and the light while the sky paled in comparison.

**Sorry this was short but I just did Light the Night a few days ago and I thought it would be important to talk about. Yes, you do walk across the Brooklyn Bridge at night and yes, you do raise money to cure Leukemia and Lymphoma. It was really fun and challenging to see how far you can go. The view was beautiful and I did the balloon release thing with my friends. So next chapter is on the way, look out. **


	10. The Love of a Mother

The Love of a Mother

Jocelyn should have known he was a jerk from the moment she met him. His easy going smile and arrogant aura should have set off warning bells but instead his addicting, enamoring personality ensnared her in his web of charm and she didn't even notice.

It wasn't until that dreaded little; pink plus sign shattered all illusions. It was her worst nightmare, she didn't even have a stable job yet and she was pregnant. She didn't even have a chance to tell him, finding him in Sherry Tanner's bed sealed all doubt. She moved to the city and things got a little better. The peculiarity in New York masked her unfortunate circumstances.

Jocelyn had to admit though there was times when she just wanted to…give up. To go home to her parents, to the security of school, to her once loving boyfriend but she knew she couldn't. Everything had changed and if it was one thing she learned- you can never fix the past. So nine months, three days and 14 hours of labor later, Clarissa Fray was born into this world.

_Do something many fail to- appreciate your parents._

It was safe to say Clary and her mother were close. Jocelyn had been Clary's sole support, her mother, father, sister, and friend and just about the only constant in Clary's life before Simon. But as close as they were Clary had outgrown her mother's affection. She frowned at the line, biting her lip. Clary knew how much she loved her but still…

Jocelyn was the one who accompanied her on her first day of school, who kissed all of her bruises and cuts, who went to all of her art competitions. Clary could never belittle how much her mother had done for her. Now she just had to show it.

"Hey mom…if you could have anything, what would it be?" Jocelyn paused, her hand on the can of creamed corn. She sighed.

"That depends…what do you want?" Clary rolled her eyes.

"Can't a gal just wonder?" Jocelyn smiled.

"That's my job Clare Bear, not yours." Clary stood next to her mother and put the flour away.

"But isn't there anything you want?" Jocelyn laughed.

"Yea a wine tour in Tuscany would be nice but we can't always get what we want can we?" Jocelyn tussled Clary's hair and left the room, leaving Clary very disgruntled.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Why can't she just be straight forward?" Clary groaned. Her coffee was cold by now as she sat with Simon, the two of them bracing the cold air outside the café. "Why can't she just tell me what she wants?" Simon shrugged.

"She's a mom, wanting something isn't exactly her biggest priority." Clary sighed.

"So it's up to me to find out?"

"Well think about it this way, she spent about 16 years changing your diapers Fray, you taking care of her isn't something she's used to."

"But how the heck am I supposed to show my appreciation then? I don't even know what counts as 'appreciative'." Simon sat back.

"You're her daughter, you'll figure it out."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As much Clary loves her mother, a $2000 dollar ticket to Italy was too much even for her. She sighed as she walked into Luke's bookstore. Stacks upon stacks were laid out in front of her, waiting to be sorted. Today Clary loved it. The methodical system of alphabetized books, everything has a place, everything is easy to figure out…if only it was like that for people.

Clary stopped to flip through a novel. She stared absentmindedly at the pages. _You taking care of her isn't something she's used to. _Is that true? What if Clary had taken away all of her opportunities, barricaded all of her wishes, her wants, her ambitions in this world.

"I really like that fairytale." Her head snapped up to meet Jace's eyes. Her cheeks warmed involuntarily. She still kept the handle from the balloon, reminding her of that fateful night. Clary looked down to see a Hans Christian Anderson fairytale- "A Mother's Love."

"I've never read it." Jace shifted the thick textbook in his hands.

"It's a real eye opener. It really makes you wonder how much moms give up for you."

"But not what they want." Clary muttered under her breath. Jace smirked.

"What's your next act?" Clary showed him, his lips twitched in amusement as he read. "Any ideas?" He finally asked.

"No…she won't even tell me what she wants." Jace shook his head.

"I thought you would have learned this by now. It's not about what they tell you. You have to think about _them_, about what _they want. _What is your mom interested in?" Clary bit her lip.

"Uhh…the color red, books, art-"

"What kind of art?" Clary looked down. She didn't really know. She hadn't paid much attention to her mother's work before.

"Clary?" Clary froze as she heard a new voice. Jocelyn appeared from the stacks with a few books in her hands, "Luke said you'd be back here…" Her voice faltered as she saw Jace. Clary's stomach twisted as Jocelyn forced a smile. "Who's this?" She asked, her voice was deadly calm.

"Uhm..mom this is…"

'Jace." Jace cut in, he shook her hand and flashed a smile. "Jace Herondale, I was just leaving Ms. Fray." He nodded towards her and Clary, his eyes straying from the book to Clary's face as he left.

"Well he's…blonde." Jocelyn finally said. Clary ducked down.

"Don't wanna talk about it mom!" She called. They may have been close but not that close.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary closed the book. The fairytale was short and sweet. Clary leaned her head against the window. _You have to think about them, about what they want._ Clary pulled out her cell phone, her fingers playing with the digits. She sighed and hit the call button, bringing the phone to her ear.

Hiding it from her had been harder than Clary thought. Jocelyn was better at reading her than she had anticipated making Clary resort to homework as a way to duck out but now, it was finished.

"Will you please just trust me?" Clary snapped as she led her mother up the steps. Jocelyn snorted.

"This is coming from the person who broke my china because they tripped over their own feet."

"I was 7." Clary said simply. She pushed to door open and took off her blindfold. Jocelyn gasped.

It had taken a while to collect but with Luke's help, every painting Jocelyn has ever done was hanging up on a wall. Swirls of color decorated the plain white and it included face, Clary's, hers, Luke's even Simon was in there somewhere. There were trees, lakes, ponds, mountains every landscape you could think of was up there and at the register sat two cups of tea.

"This is…" Jocelyn was at a loss for words.

"Luke thought it might be nice for people to be in the book while they're reading it." Clary smiled as she looked around. "Frames are nice huh?" Jocelyn grinned.

"No, this is nice, this is amazing!" She laughed breathlessly. She crushed Clary in a hug. Clary smiled in her mother's embrace. "Thank you." She whispered as she kissed the top of her head. "Thank you."


	11. Misplaced Memories

Misplaced Memories

For love, there is a moment, that moment of crystal, clear heat that sears through your skin- that defining point in the relationship when you decide whether you allow the flames to envelope your entire being….or smolder into smoke. For Benjamin Hartford, that moment passed him by over four decades ago. That moment when he stepped on the train and the sparkle of her blue eyes and the gold of her hair disappeared, there was heaviness in his heart as the embers crackle and died.

_Help someone find what they have lost._

Clary wasn't exactly the most punctual person in the world. I was the lure of her super warm and comfy bed that limited her mobility. Her alarm went on for ten minutes until her mother stormed in and pulled back the blinds. Her morning ended up with her running down the street, shoving a bagel in her mouth. She slowed n front of a pair of clear, glass doors. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to make it a bit more presentable and brushed the crumbs off of her face.

"Clary, you're late." Dorothea's voice cut like steel. Clary faked a smile,

"Sorry…you know those darn trains!" Dorothea just stared at her dubiously. She slid a sheet towards her.

"Sign in, Mr. Hartford is very anxious to see you." Clary scribbled her name on the volunteer sign in sheet and started down the hall. He was in his bed reading and smiled as he glanced up.

"Hey Ben!" Clary sighed as she set down her bag.

"Missed the alarm didn't you Clary Sage?" He smiled knowingly. Clary grinned.

"You know me too well. What's the story today?" He set down the book.

"How are you with romance?" He drew out the "o". Clary raised her eyebrows.

"Not really relevant in my life." She said, fighting the blush as for some reason, Jace's name popped into her head. Ben chuckled.

"I'm sure I am worse than you were. I was fresh out of school, inexperienced in jobs, in love but that changed on a hot, sweltering August day…

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

_Ben grunted as he lifted the box up, gasping. It was the last of the packages for today thankfully and he was ready to enjoy a cool glass of lemonade. Another chorus of Elvis's "Jailhouse Rock" played with that familiar static to it from the jukebox of the Glass Diner. _

_ "Hey Hartford! Dora's callin' ya in for a shake!" Tony's voice filtered through the door. Ben grinned and adjusted him shirt, sticky with sweat as he walked in. Dora slid a chocolate milkshake to him. _

_ "Fear you're gonna have a heatstroke out there Ben, now drink up before you really do!" He took a sip, relishing in the sudden coldness and sweetness that flooded his mouth. Her shakes were the best._

_ "Thanks Ms. Dora." She nodded approvingly. _

_ "How's the job hunt going?" Ben sighed._

_ "None of the papers are hiring. No one needs a small town grad to work with them." Dora gave him a stern look as she polished a piece of silverwork. _

_ "I don't want to hear that kinda talk from you. Maybe journalism isn't your thing, maybe you outta look up some of those big shot companies. I get customers in here every day." Ben had to hide a smile, imagining Dora, with her coercive nature having a pleasant conversation with the suits. _

_ "Thanks for the advice Ms. Dora but I really do think writing is what I want to do in this world." Dora nodded. _

_ "Then may you have luck finding a job then." She went of to see to other customers. Ben sipped his shake. The bells to the door rang, he didn't turn around to see who it was, it rang so often that the high pitch often made his head hurt. _

_ "Ms. Davenport! How's your father doing?" Ben turned around and saw _her._ She was the brightest, most beautiful thing he had ever seen with her rich, golden hair pinned back with the rest hanging in curls over her shoulder and her blue eyes sparkling. She waltzed in, her bright, yellow sundress catching the eye of every guy in the diner. She stood at the diner, her fingers drumming out a random rhythm. _

_ "Pretty good Ms. Dora….company's givin' him a bunch of stress though." Dora pursed er lips and shook her head. _

_ "Tell him not to strain himself, be mindful of his age. Arrogance is a man's weakness and I should know." She laughed and it was the most beautiful music Ben had ever heard. _

_ "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." _

_ "Good now what are you here for child?"_

_ "Just came to ask if my brother was in, father's go to have him look over a proposal."_

_ "That fancy lawyer of yours? Hmm he came in earlier, acting so high and mighty. I had to say Donald Davenport, I've known you since you couldn't hold a spoon, don't be throwin' those big words around and looking down on me!" The girl rolled her eyes._

_ "Sorry for the trouble Ms. Dora. Do you figure where he went?" _

_ "Probably down by the gas station with those friends of his." The girl sighed. _

_ "Thanks Dora…I'll be going now." _

_ "Wait!" The girl spun at the sound of her voice. "Your father's looking for extra hands right?" She nodded. "Well I know a guy, he's well read, hard working determined…" Ben's stomach churned with dread, surely she couldn't be talking about- "…just fresh out of college and he's sitting right in this room!"The girl looked around._

_ "Really?" Her voice betraying her interest. "where?" _

_ "Why, right next to ya!" Suddenly Ben could feel her blue eyes fixate on him. Maybe it was just the heat but his neck felt a lot warmer. "Ben, meet Daisy." Ben held out a shaky hand. _

_ "It's a pleasure ma'am." Her eyes narrowed a bit but then she shook his hand._

_ "Pleasure's all mine. I'm Daisy Davenport."_

_ "Benjamin Hartford." Her hand felt so smooth and was a great contrast to his calloused palms. She nodded._

_ "Well I have to get going but it was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Hartford, Ms. Dora." She smiled at him and Lord, it was a beautiful smile. Ben sighed as he sat back._

_ "Dora…I'm gonna marry that girl." _

_ "Christ Almighty, don't get ahead of yourself Ben. If your head's too far up in the clouds you might come crashing down." _

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Wow….Ben's looking to settle?" Clary laughed incredulously. He gave her a mocking look.

"Hey it was a different time back then, no kinda one night stands for us." His Southern accent came in and out. Clary calmed down.

"So you knew she was the one seconds after you met her?" Ben sighed.

"Oh yes, I have an eye for these kinda things. She was the most wonderful person I ever met. Don't you know how it feels? That spark that once you see that person you can't let them go?" He grinned as Clary glanced away. "That has to be the second time that you blushed today Clary Sage…what's going on?" Clary snorted.

"Don't be ridiculous Ben."

"Alright, alright…you don't have to tell me know but I'm just saying this fella has to be someone to make Clarissa Fray blush." Clary rolled her eyes.

"Just go on with the story." Ben chuckled.

"Daisy referred me to her father and he called me into his office, wanted to me to work as his assistant."

"Wow that was quick." Ben shook his head.

"Mr. Davenport was the most dependant person I've ever met. I swear he couldn't even wipe his own behind. I delivered his breakfast, I wrote up all of his contracts, I made his bed, I cut up his flipping steak…"

"Was Daisy there?" Clary asked.

"Always, she always thanked me. She said that she knew her father was sometimes a bit to handle but she was so grateful for me to be there…" He got a glazed over look on his face.

"Hey Romeo!" Clary snapped her fingers, "snap out of it!"

"Right, I ate with her during me free lunch and most of the time we had dinner. When it was warm, we went for walks in her family garden. Now that garden was like a jungle. There were marble benches and columns, even a fountain. But they were all covered with flowers. Gosh there were so many flowers, marigolds, violets, prim roses….

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

_ "…orchids, lilies, hyacinths…" Daisy's voice trailed off as she looked around dreamily. The warm breeze of the evening rustled some of the greenery. Daisy and Ben rested on a stone bench, listening to the flow of the fountain._

_ "That's quite impressive Ms. Daisy." She looked at him._

_ "My name's Daisy…the miss part just got added when the doctor saw I was a girl." Ben ducked his head._

_ "Sorry Daisy…" She laughed._

_ "So apologetic for the smallest things Ben…it's alright!"_

_ "This is where you got your name from?" He said, looked at all the clusters of yellow bloom that adorned the arch above them. _

_ "Yep…my mama loved working on them. They're so pretty." Ben nodded in agreement and gently rubbed a petal, feeling its silkiness. "You're not going to pick one are you?" Daisy's sharp voice interrupted the peace. _

_ "Well I figure I ought not to since it's so important to your mom and your family and all." _

_ "Thank you Ben, I appreciate that. You know that one guy picked a rose and tried to put it in my hair? A rose for the love of Christ and one of my family's!" She shook her head._

_ "Your father's already sending suitors?" Ben felt his stomach twist at the thought. His affection for Daisy had grown these months and now she was to be paired off with some rich fella. _

_ "Just snooty, arrogant, little boys." She sighed. She got up and walked around, feeling the leaves brush her skin. "They're rather annoying really but father insists." _

_ "Well what do you want to do?" Ben inquired. She grinned at him. _

"_Me? I want to travel, go everywhere, London, Paris, Greece, Venice…" She tossed a handful of fallen leaves in the air and twirled around in their falling forms. "Just think of it, dancing on the Eiffel Tower…riding a gondola…kissing a handsome Grecian boy on the shores of the beach.." She giggled. _

"_Daisy!" Ben admonished. _

"_It would be wonderful, adventure, exploration…" She sighed and looked around. "One day, if we ever get the chance…will you come with me Benjamin?" Ben was shocked, Daisy almost never used his full name. "Travel with me, I want you to experience these things with me." Ben smiled._

"_Of course." He promised, although both of them knew they probably never would. _

"_Thank you." She whispered. She leaned in and He was surrounded by the scent of flowers. That was the only thing he could register before she pressed her lips against his. _

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Oh don't make that face; I know you teenagers have done more than that!" Clary laughed.

"Did you ever get to go on those trips with her pops?" He sighed.

"No…it's the only thing I regret."

"What happened?" Ben sighed.

"Life."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

_Life was in the form of John Clark. He was smooth, handsome and rich but worst of all…he was betrothed to Daisy. _

"_How dare they? It's so-so old fashioned!" She raged. Her pale cheeks flaming with anger. Ben sighed._

"_You know your parents; they're always so old fashioned." Daisy growled in frustration. Ben smiled as he brought her in, his arms wrapped around her waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder._

"_Why mist they force me? Why can't they see what I want for once?" Her voice was muffled by Ben's throat. He kissed her forehead._

"_They're just looking out for you. They want to make sure that your future is financially secure." _

"_I should decide that, I can take care of myself." She growled. _

"_And I don't doubt that for a second love, but maybe you should talk to John," Ben's throat tightened as he said this, "find out what's so appealing that your parents don't see in me." Daisy's gentle hands pulled his face down so that he was staring into her eyes._

"_They see the one thing that doesn't matter- money while every time I look at John Clark I see the most important thing." Ben leaned his forehead against hers._

"_What's that?" _

"_He isn't you." She silenced all responses with just her lips._

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"What? So what happened? He couldn't have just married her? Daisy has more guts than that!" Clary cried.

"Just sit down and I'll tell you." Ben placated her.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

_Apparently her father could see how defiant she was getting and he had his suspicions about me. He didn't fire me though, having grown too used to be overwhelming presence in his lazy life. But when he saw that his daughter refused to marry his chosen…that's when he drew the line. _

"_I want you to leave." Ben furrowed his eyebrows, his hands slick on the leather chair he sat in. _

"_Sir, what do you mean?" _

"_I know how you feel about my daughter…and how my daughter feels about you and she cannot have that kind of distraction in her life." Ben hardened, he valued his job but he was not going to let this man intimidate him into leaving Daisy. _

"_I'm sorry sir but I love Daisy and I'm afraid I'm here to stay whether you like it or not." Mr. Davenport sat back._

"_I do not think for a second that you do not care for her my dear boy but if you would just think of her for a second. Sure you love her now but what about the future? Wedlock is expected of her and how will you provide? These several months you have been working with me doing the most mundane tasks…"_

"_That's not exactly my fault…" Ben thought._

"…_how do you expect to give her everything she wants? The life of luxury that she deserves?" Ben gulped feeling the sharp needles of doubt pierce his mind. "Did you honestly think that this would end well? That you and Daisy would get married and ride off together? I thought of you as a much smarter man that that Benjamin. You two have no future together, there is no chance."_

_Ben hung his head, he was right. There was no way he could afford even half of Daisy's wardrobe, how could he afford her life? She belonged up here, with the rest of the elite because she was better than him, better than us all. _

"_I'm offering something very generous Mr. Hartford, a paid internship at one of my firms in London with all travel expenses paid. I like to care for my workers." Ben knew it had nothing to do with care, he just wanted him out of sight, out of mind. _

"_What about Daisy?" He suddenly said, "won't she be looking for me? Wondering?" Mr. Davenport smiled at him._

"_Young love is only as powerful as it is in the moment. Soon it will fade and as will the sting. Daisy will be well taken care of and fulfill her role as a wife and mother. Do not worry Mr. Harford, I will take care of her." Ben closed his eyes. He felt his heart ripping. He had to do this, he couldn't let Daisy down. He couldn't let her lose herself with him, her life with him._

"_I'll take your offer." He said quietly. _

"_You've made a very smart choice."_

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"No Ben…." Clary groaned. Ben smiled sadly.

"My other biggest regret….I left without a word. Saying goodbye would only drive Daisy to make me stay and…I would have for her."

"Where did you go?"

"After my internship…everywhere, London, Paris, Greece, Rome…I toured all of Europe and Asia. I broke her promise, I didn't take her along." He sighed.

"Did you try to find her?"

"When I got back, her father's banks had failed and shut down. They moved and no one knew where. I looked but…I couldn't find any traces of her."

"Clary? Your mother's here to pick you up." Dorothea's voice came from the doorway.

"Right, I'll be right there thanks." Ben gripped her hand.

"Clary if you find that someone, don't let them go, not for all of the money in the world alright?" Clary sighed and leaned down and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Bye pops, I'll see you next time."

Clary sat in the car with her mother, her fingers playing with the paper. _Help someone find what they lost…._

"Hey mom? If you lost someone special to you…what would you do?" Her mother kept her eyes fixed on the road.

"Well if I lost you I would ever stop looking for you….even if years passed. That's what people do for people they love." Clary sighed. Her fingers dialing his number already.

"Hello?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Where are you taking me Clary?"

"Calm down pops, I'm not going to murder you." Clary laughed. She rolled his wheelchair down the street. Technically she wasn't supposed to be going this but what's life without a bit of rule breaking?

"I don't know, I'm blindfolded and can't see anything, this is what I call being a victim of a scheming mind."

"Me? How dare you?" Clary gasped mockingly. She pulled up to the door, wheeling him in. The high pitched sound of the silver bell made Ben hold his breath.

"Benjamin?" That voice…the voice he hadn't heard in so many years. He ripped off the blindfold. She was there, it wasn't a dream. Her hair was white but still, it fell at her shoulders. Her skin was wrinkled now; aging with her but her eyes still didn't lose their blue strictness. Jace stood behind me, catching Clary's gaze.

"W-what are you doing here Daisy?" Ben asked in bewilderment.

"This young man here told me of the Glass Diner's anniversary ceremony but instead I found…" She trailed off. Clary cleared her throat.

"Uhmm….hi Ms. Davenport I was actually the one who did all of this. Jace is my friend and he was helping me do all of this because…" Clary sighed, "because I want to undo all of pop's regrets." Daisy smiled faintly.

"How did you find me?"

"You were easy to look up." It was Jace who spoke this time, "you were in the New York City phone book but your name was under Clark…"

"You married him?" Ben gasped.

"What was I supposed to do Ben? You just left without saying a word, you abandoned me!"

"Because I knew I couldn't be there for you! I didn't have the money, the manners- ugh! God your father was right-"

"My father? What did he say?" He could see the tears welling up in her eyes, "did he tell you, you were such a poor, pitiful person who couldn't get over the slightest heart break? Did you cry nightly because you were just wondering, just hoping that the person you loved would come back? That's what I was doing Ben, I don't care what my father said, you left me!"

"I couldn't give you the life you deserved," Ben said quietly, "the life of luxury." There was silence as Daisy shook her head.

"You silly, silly man…it figures you would be so dumb to freak out over something I barely care about." She sighed. "I married John Clark and I've had three beautiful children with him and now 7 even more stunning grandchildren. I loved my late husband with everything that I was capable of he was a good man and a good father but I saw the most important thing when I looked at him." Ben smiled.

"What was that?"

"He wasn't you." Ben wheeled himself next to her and held her and, relishing in its feel. This reunion had been 40 years too late but at least it was here. Jace wheeled out a projector.

"Your second surprise of the night pops." Clary grinned as she turned on the slide show. Images began to show, the Eiffel Tower, the Coliseum, the water filled canals of Venice…all of the world right in that one room.

Ben lifted her hand and kissed her weathered knuckles. "I did promise you."

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you too." Together they allowed themselves to be lost in the world. Clary stood in the back corner with Jace, smiling. She could feel his hand cautiously brush hers before gripping it.

"I think you're starting to realize what it means." He whispered in her ear. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands gripped her hips.

"You think?" She whispered. His breath caught as she gently brushed her lips against his before kissing him, smelling his minty scent.

"Friday at seven?" He whispered. She smiled.

"I'm there." They untangled themselves from each other, keeping only their fingers interlocked.

"Clary?" Ben called. She walked over.

"What is it pops?" He looked back at Jace.

"Don't let him go." Clary laughed.

"How do you know?" He winked.

"I have an eye for these kinda things."

**Here's a long chapter! Sorry I haven't been updating as often as I'd like but here it is. I haven't really used OCs that much so please tell me what you think of them. Boo-KK-AM, that's a great idea but I think it's too early in the fic for their relationship yet but I will definitely keep the idea in mind. At all of you who thought Jace is a stalker….I might actually put him outside her apartment just to humor you all but yea he does have some stalkerish tendencies but he's just Jace. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thanks for reading!**


	12. Beckoning of Lovely

**Characters belong to Cassandra Clare and Beckoning of Lovely belongs to amy krouse rosenthal**

Beckoning of Lovely

Clary yanked her bag after deciding to just go simple, a white dress with tights. It looked like it was going to rain so she slipped her yellow umbrella, dotted with small flowers into her bag. The sudden, stirring air of her movements picked up her paper, unnoticed by Clary as she walked out the door. The paper wobbled in mid air as it glided down gently to her desk near the window. The surface was wrinkled from her hands clenching and folding it. She hadn't looked at it before she left.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary was honestly very curious as to what Jace had in store for her. Her mind couldn't stop thinking as she rode the train all the way uptown to the East Entrance of Central Park. Her phone buzzed with a new message.

_I'm waiting by the Bethesda Fountain…make sure to make your entrance grand ;)_

Confusion muddled Clary's mind. Make a grand entrance? How was she supposed to do that?

Jace sighed as he glanced around, ignoring the roar of the fountain. He twisted his fingers; his stomach was brewing with nervousness. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe she wouldn't like it. He crumpled his own paper in his hand before smoothing it again. Where was she?

At first, it was a glint in the corner of his eyes, and then as he noticed it was moving he looked closer. There she was, with her shock or red hair and her yellow umbrella raised high in the air. She danced and twirled down the steps, side stepping people, brushing them with her umbrella. They stared at her in pure confusion and some laughed, some walked quickly away and some just stared. She danced clumsily, without music but boy was she grand. She hummed as she skipped over to him.

"Nice dancing." He said. She shrugged.

"You said make my entrance grand." Jace suddenly glanced at her yellow umbrella and started laughing. Clary looked at him, confused and a bit offended. She gently hit his arm.

"Hey, my umbrella is awesome okay? You'll be sorry when I leave you in the rain." Jace shook his head chuckling.

"No, I'm not laughing at you umbrella…just…"He shook his head. "Forget about it." Clary glanced around at the pedestrians and dogs running around.

"So what are we doing here?" He smiled at her, picking up his canvas bag which was full of random things.

"Well since you've been completing them, I think you deserve an act of kindness." He reached in and pulled out a purple flower. Clary gasped as she took it, rolling it around with the stem.

"What type of flower is it?" Jace bit his lip thoughtfully.

"A surprise flower," He said finally. Clary nodded slowly as she looked around. She played with its petals for a while before walking away. Wide eyed, Jace raced after her.

"Hey! Hey!" Clary didn't stop walking. "Where are you going?"

There was a little boy sitting on a bench, his mother chatting with her friend. He sighed as he looked around, bored out of his mind. Clary walked up to him and bent down. Jace couldn't hear what she was saying but his face lit up as she gave him the flower. His mother turned around and they exchanged a few smile and words.

"I hope you have another one of those." Clary said casually as she walked back to Jace. He grinned as he opened his bag, yup; this date was working out perfectly.

"I have plenty." So that was how the first hour went by, they walked up to complete strangers, old, young, men and women and gave them each a flower and sometimes, a hug. It felt odd to Clary to be doing this, to be performing truly random acts of kindness that were actually unplanned and not from the paper…she smiled as she saw a man sniff a flower. It was better this way, a lot more meaningful. She laughed as she sat down next to Jace, her feet were worn out but she was breathless.

"Hungry?" Jace asked as he pulled a paper bag out of his canvas bag. Clary eyed the bag suspiciously.

"Jeez what do you keep in there?" He shrugged.

"Surprises." He smiled as he opened the bag. Clary laughed as she saw what was for lunch. She ripped open a pop tart as Jace stirred and shook the Kool-Aid in a water bottle.

"I haven't had this since I was ten." Clary giggled as she took a swing. The sweet liquid flowed down her throat, reminding her of the hot summer days with her mom by the YMCA pool. Jace broke off a piece and put in it his mouth. Clary laughed suddenly.

"You eat it weirdly." Jace raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't aware there was a proper way to each a pop tart." He said. Clary shook her head.

"Well I'm here to educated you. You open your mouth…and try to cram it all in." Jace looked at her.

"It's a giant rectangle." He said.

"That's the fun part, when you bit down and everything crumbles in your mouth." She demonstrated for him. "It's delicious." Jace shook his head. He had never really eaten pop tarts before. His cook always whipped up the most extravagant breakfasts. He smiled as he took a bite. But this was so much better.

At one point, they just ended up listening to music…being given a moment of peace by the song emitting from Jace's ear buds...that is until Clary saw the balloon man. She yanked the ear bud out as she ran after him leaving a startled Jace behind. She returned with one balloons one was red.

"Remember the walk?" She grinned. He snorted.

"How could I forget…I wonder where that balloon is now…" Clary smiled as she gripped his hand.

"Why don't we send another one so that it's not lonely?" Just like that night on the Brooklyn Bridge, they raised their arms, releasing the balloon watching it disappear into a small speck, floating high above the world.

They looked up to the sky, the rolling gray clouds when Clary blinked; feeling a drop of moisture hit her face. There was a loud sudden crash as rain poured out of the sky, hitting them without warning. Clary gasped, laughing at the suddenness of it. It was the little, insignificant surprises in the life that were the most meaningful.

"Wait!" Jace yelled over the roar of the storm. "There's one more thing we have to do!" He suddenly leapt into the air, pulling Clary with him. They both landed, splashing water everywhere, giggling like children. Jace then pulled Clary under the shelter of a tree.

"What was that?" Clary asked, still chuckling. Jace smiled.

"A jump for joy…"He looked up. "And we get our grand exit." Clary laughed as she pulled Jace down to her face.

"You, Mr. Herondale have given me the loveliest date so far." His hands wrapped around her waist.

"I'm glad." He whispered. Their lips connected as Clary could taste him, like Kool-Aid and chocolate pop tarts mixed in with the metallic scent of the rain. They spent the rest of the storm, kissing under the tree, reveling in the loveliness that they created.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The rain pattered through Clary's open window, staining parts of the paper. It rolled over a bit and it's crumpled and smudged ink revealed the task.

_Make the world a lovelier place._

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

**Big thanks to Liberty Hallway for translating my fic to french. If you know french go check it out because she's awesome for doing this. Okay so how was their first date? I got this idea while watching amy krouse rosenthal's film of Beckoning of Lovely. It is a beautiful project and I encourage you guys to Google it or check it out. I hope you this chapter and thanks for reading! **


	13. A Christmas Story

A Christmas Story

New York can only be described as one of the cities who go to the absolute extreme for things…and Christmas is one of them. The frenzy starts right after Thanksgiving with people camped out in the blistering cold for Black Friday (even though she loved great deals, Clary loved her toes more) and throughout the miraculous holiday, there would be the lights on the tree in Rockefeller Center or the ice skaters at Chelsea rink. New York during the holidays can only be described as chaotic and that was is the sort of thing that would make even a stone, cold New Yorker smile.

"At least you don't have an aunt who wants a New York style cheesecake flown in to California." Clary muttered as she walked up and down the aisles. She was already receiving odd looks from the man behind the counter as she had already walked past him about ten times. Simon's laugh filtered through her cellphone.

"Are you kidding? My cousins in France want me to ship over the lights from the tree in Rockefeller Center. They think I'm capable of climbing up the tree like a freaking vampire and grabbing the lights."

"Well they're four and I mean you are unusually pale…"Simon scoffed at her.

"Have fun sending moldy cheesecake Fray/" He laughed before he hung up. Clary groaned. She needed his support! How the heck was she supposed to find presents for everyone! Clary ran a hand through her hair, trying to avoid the shopkeeper's stare. She hated Christmas.

_There is an untold beauty in giving._

_Way to be specific, _Clary thought as she read the paper. She crushed it in her pocket as she ran down the street. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw him standing there, waiting for her.

"Way to be consistent." Jace smirked as he took her hand, warming her cold skin. Clary thought that Jace was some kind of alien, he never seemed to get cold.

"Yes, yes I know I'm late…way to rub it in Herondale." He chuckled, releasing small, white clouds of steam into the air. "I was trying to do my Christmas shopping."

"You still haven't done that? It's in a week." Jace snorted as he rubbed her fingers.

"I know it's just…I can't think of anything…and I can't think of how to figure out my act of kindness." She sighed as she showed him the paper. Jace pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"It is Christmas…the season of giving. You could think of things outside of your own family." Clary rolled her eyes.

"What am I Santa? Should I just fly around the world, lugging gifts around?"

"You'd get the milk and cookies." Jace pointed out. Clary laughed as she tugged him closer, taking in more of his body heat; her mind spinning with different ideas.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary, by no means, lived in a wealthy neighborhood. Her building was all working class with a land lady who always smelled like scrambled eggs for some reason. It had grown more desolate over the years, financial troubles hitting families hard and soon Clary had to say goodbye to many of her childhood friends as they moved away. The hallways were no longer warm and alive with the smells of curry and Spanish cuisines, the afternoons were no longer loud with gossip and rounds of mahjongg.

Clary glanced around at the darkened hallways and the staircases literally full of cobwebs. It seemed nearly eerie now, silent and unfamiliar. Clary unlocked the door to her own apartment, her mind already working. Clary Fray wasn't a big fan of Christmas but it didn't take watching all of the cheesiest, holiday movies in the world to know what the holiday could do. The tinsel seemed to want to strangle her and the tree glittered mockingly at her as she sighed. She grabbed her coat and walked out into the freezing air. She hated Christmas.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Thomas Tool prided himself in keeping his little brother grounded in reality. At a young age, he knew there were no such things as the tooth fairy or ghosts and there was certainly no such thing as Santa. Yet his brother was adamant about the existence of Santa. He whole heartedly believed in a fat man in a red suit to bring joy and happiness to the world by squeezing himself in a chimney…one of society's most…colorful beliefs Thomas had to admit.

He was challenged that Christmas morning. His parents were at work, like always, when he heard his brother's squeal. Christmas was usually celebrated with chicken bought half price at the supermarket and their exhausted mother reading stories to them about Santa. Usually, it was just Thomas, his brother and 24 hours of A Christmas Story. His brother lunged on his bed, holding a bag.

"Told you he was real!" He smirked smugly. Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Probably left for someone else." Thomas muttered as he rolled back to go to sleep.

"No, it has our apartment number on it!" Thomas shot up as he snatched the bag.

_To the boys of apartment 4C_

_Merry Christmas_

_With cookies and milk, an elf_

Inside was an assortment of candies, chocolates and Starbursts. Thomas glanced at the open window. He was rethinking his decision to not write a wish list for Santa the next year.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary's cheeks were red and her eyes were already drooping. Running up and down the stairs delivering candy to everyone wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do. She thanked God for Jace's help as she walked with him through the park.

"Have you gotten anything for Christmas yet?" Jace muttered as they walked. Clary stopped and grinned at him.

"I still have to give you your present!" She forced him to sit down on a bench as she pulled out a sharpie.

"You've always wanted a tattoo right?" With that, she lifted his sleeve to expose bare skin. She traced the marker in spirals and shapes, using her artistic skills to make it as precise as possible, despite her hand shaking. Jace looked at it curiously.

"What does it mean?" Clary smiled.

"Strength." She said. He grinned as he kissed her softly, his hands going behind her neck. Clary suddenly felt something cold and foreign around her neck. She pulled back to see a small, silver ring on a thin, silver chain. Jace quickly pressed his lips to hers.

"Merry Christmas." He murmured. Clary grinned. Christmas wasn't so bad.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry, I know I haven't updated in a while! But here it is and I added some fluff for you guys. School sucks and huge projects suck even more. I will try to update more often but if I don't please know that I also have other priorities. But thank you to for reminding me of my dedicated reader. You guys are awesome. I know it's a bit early for a Christmas story but I know if I write it later that I'm not going to have any time to actually write it so might as well do it on my down time. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks for reading!**


	14. The Wonders of Resolutions

The Wonders of Resolutions

"Cooking?" Clary raised her eyebrow as she watched Isabelle take out flower and sugar. Isabelle grinned at her.

"Yep, my New Year's resolution is to learn something new which is to cook…which means you have to help me."

_Ring in the New Year with helping someone fulfill one of their resolutions._

"So when exactly did you think of this?"

"Well…I wanted to do it last year but I put it off-"

"Until about fourteen hours before the new year." Clary finished. She groaned. She had tasted Isabelle's cooking before and needless to say…she could put down a moose with her food. Which of course, Clary would never try…moose were endangered. "So…how exactly are you going to learn?"

Isabelle smiled at her as she flicked on the television. "Food Network."

-Half an Hour Later-

"Wait! Put the apples in the what?" But the smiling Rachael Ray had already moved on. Clary was watching Isabelle's frustration with a mix of fear and bemusement as she stirred the honey. Who knew apple scented fondue was so hard? With a growl, Isabelle chucked the apple paste at the television screen, creating a thick, syrupy layer that slid slowly off of Rachael Ray's face. "I bet you don't even eat the freaking thing! Why does it have to be 'apple scented'? Why can't it just be apple fondue? Is mixing apples in just too simple for you Rachael, do you always just have to complicate things?"

Clary put a spoonful of the honey in her mouth as Isabelle slammed her door to her bedroom. They weren't going to use the honey anyway. She sighed as she went to the telephone and, with her mouth still full of honey, she called in the expert.

"Get up! Get up!" Magnus sang as he arrived. Isabelle warily climbed out of her bedroom.

"Who's this?" She asked as she stared at Magnus's tight and glittery outfit.

"Reinforcements." Clary answered as she got out another bag of flour. Isabelle snorted as she leaned on the kitchen countertop.

"I don't need reinforcements."

"Dear, I heard you just yelled at an inanimate object, ruined a completely good mixture of apples and allowed you friend here to polish off the rest of your ingredients." He gestured towards Clary who suddenly noticed the uneven tiles on the floor. "So yes, I say you need more than reinforcements…you need an army." Isabelle huffed but ignored the snipe as she watched Magnus perform his magic.

"Now cooking is like a relationship." Clary snorted quietly, not a good analogy. Isabelle had never been good with relationships. "You need everyone to cooperate-"

"Everyone? There are more than two people?" Magnus shot her a sly look.

"Not that you would know darling but yes that is possible." He winked at her as he moved on. "Anyway, everyone needs to cooperate, and you need to be patient." He chopped the apples into small chunks and swiped them into a bowl. "The apples are the most important, they bring that sweet taste, that flavor that everyone can connect to, can relate to…the best part of food." After a few more slicing and dicing, he stirs the concoction slowly. "It's like making love; you have to go slow and steady."

Isabelle rolled her eyes, "what if you're the fast and passionate kind of girl?"

"Then hopefully you're partners will survive the experience." Clary snorted in her drink as Magnus poured the concoction into the pan and shoved it in the oven. "And in about two hours, you will have an all American apple pie ready."

"With a partially, glittered center." Isabelle said as she cleaned the last spoon. "But I want to cook something." Magnus grinned at her.

"I know something you can make…the best snack known to man kind."

-11:50-

It was chilly on the balcony as they sat out there; the rest of the party was watching the ball drop in Times Square.

"I'm sorry this didn't turn out like you wanted…I'm sure you expected something…more." Isabelle shrugged as she smiled softly through the sliding doors.

"It doesn't really matter anyway…people are eating and…they're having fun. That's the best part of food." Clary nodded in agreement as she took a bite of out Isabelle's peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"If it's any consolation, you bring me back to my fourth grade days." Isabelle punched Clary lightly in the arm.

"Shut up!" They both laughed. Isabelle glanced up and got off the edge. "Well, I better go, Simon is looking pretty good tonight." She winked as she slid the door open.

-11:55-

"You're a polar bear." He said as he slid his coat over Clary's freezing arms. She turned around, feeling his back as he stood behind her.

"I like the view." She said.

-11:57-

"Did you like the sandwiches?"

"Are you kidding me? Isabelle tried to shove one in my mouth the minute I walked through the door."

-11:58-

"So any New Year resolutions? Because as of today, I'm obligated to help anyone with theirs."

-11:59-

"Just one." His gaze flickered to my lips and suddenly, my breath felt like it was knocked out of me. Suddenly everyone in the apartment stood up. "5…!" They cheered.

He was getting closer, his arms on either side of my body, pressing me against the railing.

"4….!"

He tilted his head slightly to the side. I could smell his scent. It was intoxicating.

"3…!"

"What's that?" I asked breathlessly.

"2….!"

He grinned.

"1! Happy New Year!" They screamed.

He quickly pressed his lips to mine and I closed my eyes, letting the sound of party poppers fade away into the rhythm of Jace's breathing. He leaned his forehead against mine.

"You…you're my resolution."

Clary smiled; yep…this was going to be a pretty good year.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know, I'm sorry this is so short but I thought there should be one chapter dedicated to the New Year. But I promise there will be longer chapters to come. I hope you guys are enjoying it! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reading! **


	15. Mesmerised

Mesmerized

"_I want to live in a city that never sleeps!"_

_-Sinatra, "New York, New York"_

-In the Moment-

It was like one of those scenes in those sappy romance movies. When you watch it, you snort at the cheesiness of it but when you're in one...especially when the wind is whipping violently through your hair and you're hundreds of feet off the ground with cars speeding by on the very busy freeway below you, and his eyes are boring in your searching for an answer...it isn't that funny anymore.

-2 weeks before-

Amatis pulled her bag off the slowly spinning carousel, making sure not to fall on top of it, wouldn't want a repeat of what happened at the airport in Switzerland. She set the bag down gently and looked around. JFK was busy with men running around in their suits and people shouting into their Blackberries. The giant windows were covered with fog, making watery reflections of the planes outside. Amatis sighed as she adjusted her carryon bag and rolled her suitcase over ot an empty seat and sat down.

"_So much for New York's first impression." _She thought.

_Mesmerize and be mesmerized._

"The city that never sleeps", "the crossroads of the world", "the city of light" despite all these names, New York has always been known as "the city" to Clary, just "the city". It wasn't the big, famous things that made Clary love the city, but the tiny spaces tucked in the corners, a sense of peace you wouldn't expect in a city of chaos. There was an order to the madness but right now...Clary was just mad.

"...and then he said he needed to go! Can you believe that? He just ditched me? What the heck? Why can't he just full out say he's going to break up with me?" Clary huffed. Simon shrugged.

"Maybe he's afraid of commitment...and the new Black Ops is coming out...he might be one of those guys who just can't take a relationship while they're in the game." Clary shot him a look.

"No...that's just you Simon." She sighed as she sipped her coffee, letting the bitterness chase away any lingering fatigue.

"So he just said it? Just like that?" Clary looked out the window from their normal booth at Taki's.

_Clary smiled slightly as she felt Jace's fingers squeeze hers .She ignored his amused glanced as she flipped the page in her book, her eyes not seeing the words on the page. The quiet shuffling and the musty smell of books comforted Clary as she and Jace sat in the library. There wasn't really anything to do, so they decided to spend it inside, since it was raining. _

"_Are you really reading?" She felt his lips right next to her ear and she fought a blush as she turned her face away._

"_Yes." She said simply, fighting a chuckle at his surprised expression. He sighed loudly, gaining some dirty looks shot in their directions. _

"_You know, this is starting to turn out like a scene from 'Breakfast at Tiffany's', next you'll be telling me you're moving to Brazil." Clary looked up and bit her lip._

"_You watched 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'?" She was shaking, fighting down laughter. Jace rolled her eyes as he shut the book and handed her, her coat. _

"_Come on, we're going." _

_The rain had slowed into a thick wall of moisture that set Clary's red waves into messy curls. Their fingers were still laced as they waiting for the cars to finish passing. Clary thought now was the time to bring it up casually. _

"_So...are we like a couple now?" She asked nonchalantly. Jace stiffened as he turned to her._

"_What?" He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. _

"_A couple? You know like boyfriend and girlfriend." She muttered the last part, her cheeks turning red. Jace blinked._

"_I don't know...do you think we are?" His grip loosened on her hand._

"_Are we?" Clary asked. The light changed and the crowd started moving, but they stood on the street corner. Jace released Clary's hand as he stepped back. _

"_I gotta go...I need to do something." With that, he melted into the crowd, leaving Clary frozen on the sidewalk. _

Clary looked over to find Simon shoveling in his pancakes as she recounted yesterday morning.

"Did you just hear a word I said?" He grunted in response and she sighed.

"So are you free this afternoon?" Simon asked, taking a break from his unnatural ingestion of food.

"Nope...my cousin is flying in from Switzerland so I'm pretty much booked for the next week." Simon raised his eyebrows.

"Switzerland-"

"No, don't even start with the cheese and chocolate jokes." Clary raised her hand. Simon looked down, dejected. A loud car honk interrupted their conversation as Clary looked out the window to see her mother jamming her fist into the wheel. She made wild hand gesticulations as Clary and Simon stared.

"I think that means I'm supposed to go."

"Or she's being attacked by invisible, ninja squirrels." Simon said as he sipped his coffee. Clary bid Simon goodbye and climbed into the car. Jocelyn slammed her foot on the accelerator as she glided through New York traffic.

"Geez mom! I don't think Amatis's would like her first experience to be spent at the police station." Clary gripped the seat as her seat as Jocelyn sped onto the BQE.

"We're late, Amatis's plane arrived a while ago." She gritted her teeth. Clary stared at her mother, her usually punctual mother, incredulously. Jocelyn avoided her stare. "I was...with Luke last night." She kept her eyes on the road as Clary quickly looked away.

They ran through the doors and saw the crowds leaving the airport. Clary suddenly wished she had one of those big signs that the people who pick up other people in the airport have. She ran around the airport, avoiding big luggage cases and angry looking business men.

"Amatis!" She called, "Amatis?"

"Clary?" Her voice was quiet with just a slight accent. Clary spun around to see a tall woman with brown hair and curious eyes looking at her. Clary sighed in relief.

"Yes! Uhhh...err...sorry we're late...welcome to New York?" It was a lame greeting but Amatis laughed and hugged Clary.

"It is a bit late for that...many rude New Yorkers told me to move it unless I was waiting for a flight." Clary rolled her eyes.

"Yea...we can be like that...now let's get you back to the apartment."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Amatis set her suitcase down and she unzipped it. "I have so many pictures of Switzerland, I heard you're an artist Clary and I took pictures of-"Clary raised an eyebrow as Amatis slowly pulled out a lacy, pink thong.

"Uhm...that's an interesting choice of...undergarments." Clary said slowly.

"It-it isn't mine." Amatis looked up at her. "This suitcase isn't mine!"

Jocelyn hung up the phone and sighed. "The airport said we need to come in and check and bring the suitcase to return it to the right person." Amatis groaned.

"This trip is turning out to be a disaster."

"Hey! Don't worry! We'll do something after we do this."

-2 days later-

Clary didn't know this much rain could fall from the sky. It had been raining for days and still hadn't stopped. She and Amatis were getting restless, being cooped up in the apartment. Clary stood up and tossed Amatis her coat.

"Where are we going?" Amatis said, confused.

"The city doesn't stop because of the rain and neither are we. This is your vacation and we're going to spend it wisely." Clary grabbed two umbrellas and handed one to Amatis and they went out in the pouring rain.

Amatis looked at the white building, transfixed at its swirling dimensions. "Where are we?" She asked.

"One of the places that can make rain look artistic." The water pattered on the glass ceiling creating small, black shadows that dotted the floor. Amatis and Clary wandered up and down the levels of the Guggenheim, looking at the vivid blooms of color and yet, the stark lack of color. There wasn't any plan for the day...just wandering.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The sun finally showed its face and cleared away the rain. Amatis still wasn't used to the extreme humidity that lingered around. She tied her hair back as she followed Clary. They had taken the A train to Chelsea and she saw the black track of a train stretch out high above the streets. She furrowed her eyebrows as she saw Clary climbing the stairs up.

"Another train?" She wrinkled her nose. Clary laughed.

"Nope, something else entirely." Amatis gasped as she finally reached the top. No, it wasn't a train station; it was open space with flower of every kind, their blooms bursting with color, nurtured with the renewed rays of the absent sun. "It's Highline Park. They turned the entire train tack to a garden...and it goes pretty far too."

They walked along the planks, stopping every so often to look at the greenery. A garden in a city...how oddly charming. Amatis bent down to get some water and a voice was emitted from the fountain. She jumped back in surprise, eliciting a chuckle from Clary.

"Kisses are a form or oral hygiene and kills bacteria in your mouth." Amatis raised an eyebrow as she pushed the button again. "Please do not lick the fountain...that's just super gross." Amatis glanced up at Clary for a moment, before the both, burst out laughing.

Amatis sighed as she slipped off her shoes and stepped onto the cool grass. She had a giant backyard at home in Switzerland and now, feeling the tickling of the blades of green beneath her feet just made her homesick. Clary sat down next to her as they both looked out to the view. High rise buildings dominated the skyline, dotted only with a few, white topped steeples.

"Don't you find it so...cluttered here?" Amatis asked as she lay down. Clary was quiet for a moment.

"I've gotten so attached to the clutter that I think I couldn't think without it." She admitted. Without the business of New York...the silence would just be too pressing.

They were still walking when Amatis saw something out of the corner of her eye. She stopped suddenly, grabbing Clary's arm.

"Look!" She exclaimed as she saw a girl flying through the air. Clary looked over.

"Oh yea...we're in front of the trapeze school." They walked over to the railing to see practice. They were flying, their bones melted into a graceful fluidity as they flew through the air...never seeming to land.

"I think I'm starting to like New York." Amatis smiled.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The days flew by with sightseeing and Halal food until it was up to Amatis's last, dwindling days in New York and Clary wanted to end her stay here with a bang. Her head was working out some ideas as she walked down the street and slammed into something hard. Papers flew everywhere and Clary rushed to retrieve them. The owner looked up and Clary caught the familiar blue eyes.

"Alec?" She couldn't believe she was seeing him again, that guy from the coffee shop. His confusion melted into realization as he reached out and shook her hand.

"Clary, it's nice to see you." Clary laughed incredulously.

"Yea, what have you been up to?" Alec shrugged.

"I quit Mortmain's actually...I now work for Moody's down by the Court Street."

"Really that's great! Bet you get a nice view huh?" Alec chuckled.

"Yea...my office is pretty nice." Clary grinned.

"That's great...well see you later."

"Wait! I feel kind of bad I didn't pay you back for that coffee...so do you want lunch or something?" A smile slowly spread over her face.

"Only if I can invite one more person."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Christ, are Wall Street men always this stiff?" Magnus chuckled as he speared another piece of chicken. Alec's cheeks heated up as he looked away.

"No...I'm just...not very conversational."

"I'm sure you are if you try. Come on! What's your favorite color? What was your childhood pet? Have you ever stared cross eyed at a cat?" Clary stifled her laughter.

"Sorry, what was that last one?" Magnus glared at her.

"Those pesky, bloodthirsty things...they'll attack you if you do that. Chairman Meow almost ripped my eye out. "

"You have a cat named Chairman Meow?" Alec raised his eyebrow.

"Finally! Someone who gets the joke!" Magnus exclaimed as he threw his head back.

"Not sure it's a good one." Clary muttered under her breath. Magnus swatted at her.

"So have you found a good going away event for your cousin yet?" Clary sighed.

"No...not yet. I don't know what to do?"

"Go with the cheesy I say." Magnus chewed thoughtfully. "Show her the city skyline at night...it's been done but trust me, it never gets old...not even for New Yorkers."

"Yea but where? I want her to see everything."

"You could go to the roof of Moody's." Alec said suddenly. Clary's head snapped up. "I mean technically it's not allowed but there are some rules I could...bend." Magnus chuckled.

"So there is a little rebel inside of you." Alec flushed a deep red.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

She led Amatis to the final door and Amatis gasped and ran to the edge, looking over. "This is amazing!" She screamed over the wind. She giggled with glee as she looked over at the skyline. It was everything she could have imagined, summing New York's life into one final image that was seared into her conscience. Clary looked with her, the same thing that she had seen since that day she was born...and still it was always changing somehow. The pinpricks of light that made the reputation of the city that never sleeps.

"It's..it's..." Amatis stuttered.

"Mesmerizing." Clary finished. She was a bit chilly but that didn't matter. This was the highlight of Amatis's trip here and Clary had made it happen. Amatis hugged Clary.

"Thank you...for everything." Amatis whispered. Clary squeezed.

"It was nothing...have fun in your country of chocolate and cheese." Amatis pulled back and gave Clary a look.

"I had to crack at least one before you left!" Clary exclaimed. They stayed up there for a bit longer before Amatis sighed.

"I have an early flight back tomorrow...I should probably get going." Clary smiled.

"I think I'm going to stay longer...I'll meet you at home."

The noise helped her think as she wrapped her arms around her knees. _Bam! _The door swung open and Jace came out, panting. Clary stood up slowly, as she stared in shock.

"Damn stairs." He muttered.

"What hell are you doing here?" Clary snapped as she crossed her arms, feeling more exposed than ever.

"I ran. I ran and that was...is the most cowardly thing to do...ever. I know I messed up and I'm sorry and I know that this might not even make it up. I'm...not good at relationships as in I've never had one that lasted longer than three weeks and it's usually ended up in disaster.  
>I'm stubborn and I have a bad temper and I have a lot of baggage so being in a relationship and finding someone who <em>wants <em>to be in a relationship with me is pretty big.

This whole labeling, boyfriend, girlfriend thing is new to me and I've never done it before but I'll try it...if that's what you really want. I'll do anything you want because in the end, it doesn't matter whose boyfriend is whose, it's just a whole, big possessive thing. The point is, is that I like you...really, really like you, and might even be falling for you. I've see what kind of person you are and the effect you have on people it's just...pretty mesmerizing. So I'm asking you...will you be my girlfriend?"

-Back to the Moment-

Your heart just stops, everything around you just stops...and then speeds up again as your brain processes what he's saying. You mind then tries to formulate a response...but responses are tricky. You don't want the cheesy, run to each other in slow motion thing or being too frigid so Clary just ended up with this.

"Uhmm..." Clary wanted to hit herself on the head. Uhm? That was her response? Jace was still staring at her as she sighed. The noise helps to clear her head. New York is about new things, new dreams, new people, new experiences, and the ever evolving city where everything changes...where people change to. "Okay." She finally said as she turned around.

"What?" Jace's eyes widened.

"I said okay." She repeated. He nodded and walked over to her and grabbed her tight, planting his lips on hers. She could feel the chill of the night air on his skin but she kissed back, his arms holding her there, grounded, the silhouette of the two imprinted on the skyline. Clary had to admit...it was pretty mesmerizing.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So here is the longer chapter! I have been to all of these places...except for the Moody's building because I don't have those connections but I'm working on it! Anyway, what did you guys think of the chapter? I hope you liked it and thanks for reading! <strong>


	16. Postman's Park

"Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid."  
>― Frederick Buechner<p>

Postman's Park

Cour·age [kur-ij, kuhr-] noun 1. the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., bravery. Clary never considered herself as "courageous". She was always scared of something, a consequence or a risk she'd have to face. She read of heroines in books, with their giant standoff with their enemies or their fears- the rush of adrenaline and pure insanity that brought them through it, that helped them conquer their fear. Except fear isn't a country, you can't plant a flag on it and "conquer" it. It's not a tangible thing, it is hidden in the dark recesses if your mind, in the places you are most afraid to look for. Maybe that's why it's so frightening.

_Bravery is just as essential, if not the same as kindness; honor the random acts of bravery in the world. _

"Think about the history of the world, the wars, the revolutions, the changes...people were willing to give up their entire way of life to do what they believe in. The Haitian Revolution, the Underground Railroad, the Civil Rights Movement and so on..." Imogene cried to the room of high school seniors. Most of them just blinked blearily at her. She stiffened and breathed in deeply. Why did she choose high school again? "Even today, the Egyptians in Tahrir Square...what people are capable of...it's shocking."

Clary bit her lip as she thought about this, the masses of people that would give up everything for an idea. The masses are named, "the Revolutionaries" or "the Protesters" but the single individuals that sacrificed daily life for these things...she didn't know who they were. It wasn't necessarily anyone's fault; names and information have been lost in the folds of history. But still, Clary couldn't shake that thought out of her head. Clary wandered aimlessly among the stack of books before sighing and plopping down in front of a computer. Her fingers tapped lightly on the keyboards, not sure of what to type. She bit her lip and straightened up. _Acts of courage..._

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"So are you guys...talking?" Isabelle asked as she shifted her bag.

Clary shrugged, sketching out a map of Central Park. Ever since Jace's big confession...their communication had been minimal. It wasn't that Clary didn't like him or anything...she just didn't know how to talk to him about it. "I don't even know what we are." Clary admitted as she marked on side of the park."I guess that's just something I need to figure out along the way."

"So how are you going to get the information?" Clary sighed as she pulled out a giant stack of construction paper. "Everyone has to have been courageous once in their life. All I have to do is ask around."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Sophie jerked the key in with one quick motion of her hand. _Don't think, just go. _The mantra played in her head over and over again. But she found her fingers still clutching the key, frozen in the stop. She pressed her fingers hard, leaving rectangular imprints on her flesh. She closed her eyes and tried to stop the shaky breathing and heavy weight that seemed to suddenly appear on her chest. _Deep breaths Sophie...you can do this. _

She couldn't stop the sound of crunching metal and the smell of smoke. She could see herself zooming through the streets at an uncontrollable speed and suddenly she felt the ground shift underneath her seat. She gasped and gripped the steering wheel with both hands, feeling pins and needles stab her nerves in protest.

Suddenly, the car door opened and warm hands were pulling her out of that death trap and into the frigid air. The cold snapped her limbs to attention and they were suddenly working again. He cradled Sophie against his chest, gently rocking her soothingly in the middle of the street. She didn't even notice she was crying until a blistering wind blew by and hither wet cheeks. She hid her face and wiped her tears on his t-shirt. His fingers subconsciously rubbed the angry, scar she had over her face, made by one of _those _things. She refused to look back at the car. Sophie knew that people were probably staring at the right now but she could care less. All she wanted to do was get the feeling back into her fingers, stop the pain.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Got on a plane to fly halfway across the world to go to the tomato festival."

"Burst randomly into song in a mall"

"Read a passage in class."

"Eat my wife's cooking."

"Eat my husband's baking."

"Saved a dog from the pound."

"Trust someone with a secret."

"Stand up to bullies at school."

Clary flexed her fingers, feeling the tensed muscles relax as she put the marker down. There were so many people with so any brave acts with something as small as raising your hand in class to as big as protesting animal abuse in front of the building. She shoved the papers in her locker and slammed the door, ready to go home. "

Uhmm...Clary?" Clary spun around to see Sophie. She was a quiet, British girl in her class who moved here a few months ago. She never really talked much, just looked down and used her long hair to cover the scar she had on her face.

"Hey Sophie, what's up?" Sophie took a breath and straightened her shoulders. "I heard you were collecting acts of bravery." Clary nodded slowly. "Well how about another one...with me."Clary whipped out a marker and a new piece of construction paper.

"What is it?"Sophie bit her lip. "That's the problem...it hasn't been done yet...and I want you to do it with me."

Sophie took a breath as she squeezed the wheel, ignoring the confused look of Clary in the passenger seat.

"I don't understand why are we just-"

"I'm scared- no terrified actually to drive. Just the thought of being on the road sends crawling sensations down my back."

"You don't have to do this." Clary said softly.

Sophie shut her eyes and shook her head. "No...no, you don't know what happened to me so it's better that you're here and I need for someone to see that I was able to do this...that I am able to do this."

"Are you sure you're ready?" Clary asked gently.

Sophie laughed breathlessly. "I've been in therapy for months...I should be able to do this...I just- I should be able to."

"O-okay...it's okay, just breath, just breath." Clary coached, watching Sophie close her eyes and inhale and exhale, her fingers loosened and twitched on the wheel. "Okay, just slide the key into position." Sophie slid the key in, trying not to cringe at the rough, scraping sound it made. "And turn it." Sophie closed her eyes and in one swift movement, jerked her hand around and resisted screaming at the low rumble of the car starting. "Do you know how to drive?" Clary asked.

Sophie tried to focus on her voice. "Y-yea...my dad taught me."

"Okay...that's good, just keep talking to me."

Sophie's hand automatically adjusted the stick shift, just as her father had showed her multiple times. _Gently Soph, this controls the car's movements, you need to be gentle like with a baby._ "He had a beautiful blue Jag that he restored himself. My dad- he loved cars. He loved the parts and the smell and the oil. He wanted an auto body shop but my mom wasn't all for that idea." Sophie laughed; it was high and reedy as she placed her foot over the accelerator.

"Careful, don't push too hard." Clary warned but Sophie jammed her foot on and the car shot two feet before Sophie screamed and slammed on the brakes; bringing the car to a screeching halt. Sophie laughed breathlessly while Clary tried to regain her breath. "Did you see that? I drove the car!" Sophie laughed, "I actually drove it."

"In theory..." Clary mumbled as she rubbed the sore spot when the seat belt tugged at her.

"I can't believe it after the accident..." Sophie glanced over at Clary's curious expression and sighed. "My parents and I were driving back from a play and it was raining and it was dark and well...I guess you can tell what happened next." She took in Clary's horrified expression. "My parents didn't make it and I gained this scar that night. But I can't believe I finally drove...I didn't think I'd ever be able to..."Sophie shook her head in disbelief.

"Well there is one more brave thing you can do." Clary fiddled with her camera. "I need to take a picture of people who did the deeds and you don't have to do this but it'd be nice if you did..." Sophie hesitated before smiling.

"When do I say cheese?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary taped the last paper to the spiny backbone of the black, wrought fence.

Sophie Collins

Overcoming her past and fears, now her past fears, and finally driving a car for the first time

"There's a park in London called the Postman's Park." Clary stilled at the sound of his voice. "Where they honor heroic sacrifices and bravery."

"Acts of bravery are just as important as acts of kindness." Clary said softly.

"I know which is why I made this."

Clary Fray

Overcame a bad day by inspiring kindness in the world

He taped the green construction paper and turned back to look at her. "Now it's complete." They stood next to each other in silence for a while. Clary clenched her hands. _Be brave, Clary. _

"I don't know how this works." She blurted out. "I'm not sure how to be a good girlfriend or even how to tell if you're a good boyfriend. I've never done this type of thing before and-and what if it doesn't work out? What if we just break up and never speak to each other again? I'm scared that will happen."

Jace exhaled. "I've never done this thing either. This is new to me to but I just go along with it, make stuff up along the way...that's the best way to do it." He smiled at her. "Just don't force anything. Just be natural with me. That's all I really want- someone that's real."

He took her hand and rubbed her soft skin, relishing in the warmth while a cool breeze blew by, fluttering the colorful pieces of paper with the stories of untold bravery amongst ordinary people.

"We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another."- Veronica Roth

**A/N: Postman's Park is an actual park in London and they do honor heroic sacrifice there. I wanted to model this chapter after that and show that courage exists in ordinary people as well (those deeds...they actually came from people I know- who knew your Spanish teacher would fly to Spain to go to the tomato festival?) **

**To answer toocoolforbeth's question- I do live in New York, in Brooklyn and I always love going into the city. **

**So Jace and Clary's "official relationship" is starting. What did you think? I hope you liked this chapter and thanks for reading!**


	17. The Moving Garden

**As always, the Mortal Instruments belong to Cassandra Clare and "The Moving Garden" belongs to Lee Mingwei.**

The Moving Garden

Clary tapped her clipboard, making an echoing sound in the nearly empty hall. This is what she gets when she reads manga all night and forgets to do her history homework- a weekend at the Brooklyn Museum for extra credit. In reality, it wasn't that bad. The Egyptian Exhibit was actually very interesting minus the lack of people. Occasionally a curator or volunteer would walk through but other than that, it was Clary alone with 5,000-year-old artifacts.

She sighed as she sketched the tablet, growling in frustration as she rubbed at the lopsided line. She glanced at the clock, quickly copying the images onto her paper. She grabbed her backpack, eager to get out of the heck out of there. As much as she liked the museum, the silence was unnerving. She grabbed her coat from the checkout desk, stepping out into the spacious lobby. The glass-plated lobby revealed the dreariness of the day as it showed the gray, rolling clouds, heavy with rain.

Clary dumped her bag on the giant granite bench and collapsed on it, glancing at her watch. She took out the crumpled and ripped piece of paper.

_The greatest thing about kindness is that it extends to everyone, no matter who they are. Be kind to a random stranger and make their day._

She bit her lip, stretching back and trying to figure out how to do this. Suddenly she felt her fingers meet something silky. She snatched her fingers away and turned back. Flowers? In February?

_The Moving Garden offers you the opportunity to take a flower as you leave the museum. Just a reminder: If you do decide to take one, you are agreeing to make a detour on your way to your next destination and give the flower to a complete stranger as a gift._

Be kind to a random stranger…Clary gently picked up the stem of a vivid pink flower, twirling it between her fingers. Her phone vibrated and Clary quickly flipped it open.

"Hey Jace, where are you?"

"Something held me up, I'm sorry. Did you finish your detention assignment yet?" Clary rolled her eyes.

"It's called extra credit and yes I did."

"Do you want to meet me at Taki's?" Clary glanced at the flower.

"Yea sure, I'll be a bit late also…something I have to do."

"Okay, see you there." Clary flipped her phone closed and bit her lip.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Charlotte Branwell had better things to do than redecorate her store for winter. Running a small business wasn't exactly a piece of cake in her book, her loans from college were still stacking up as she rushed to bring in more customers.

"Four years of economics and it's all amounted to salvaging flour from the bottom of the bag." Charlotte muttered as scraped the bottom. The tiny fluffs of white flew in her face as she blinked, disoriented. She groaned as she heard the door ring.

"Anyone here?"

"Be right there!" Charlotte caught a glimpse of bright, red hair towards the door. "What will you have sweetie?"

"Just a muffin." Charlotte tried to wipe her face clean, just smearing the flour even more. She scoffed in frustration as she made her way to the counter, rubbing her dress together, trying to get the random white stains out. "Okay now will that be raspberry or-"She looked up at the faint sound of the bell again. The shop was empty but on the counter was a five dollar bill…and a pink flower. The door rang again and a man shuffled in, wet from the rain and fumbling with his wallet.

"Can I get a slice of fruit pastry please?" Charlotte placed the pink flower in a glass cup of water. The sound of the cup on the countertop made the man stop and look up.

"It's on the house dear."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary walked into Taki's, dripping from the rain. Jace raised his eyebrow at her, confused by the giant smile on her face matched with the weather outside. She walked over and kissed him, making the metallic smell of rain steal his senses. Jace could feel the cool drops of water make cold pinpricks on his skin that created goose bumps. Clary grinned at him as she sat down and snatched a menu.

"So...how was your day?" Clary asked nonchalantly as she studied the menu. Jace laughed, bewildered.

"Where did that come from?" He asked incredulously. Clary shrugged, her eyes sparkling with humor.

"Flowers are beautiful this time of year." She smiled gently.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know this is a short chapter but I just saw this project in the museum a few days ago and I thought that it deserved its own chapter because it's something special about the city and the people, which is what fuels the project. **

**I am taking suggestions again! So if you have a random act of kindness that you have done or experienced, PM me or say it in a review because I'd love to know about it and I might do a chapter on it!**

**I hope you liked this chapter and thanks for reading!**


	18. Senseless Acts of Beauty

Senseless Acts of Beauty

_"Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty."__Ann Herbert_

Elementary school was a rather tumultuous time in Clary's life. The spelling bees and races to the juice and cookie line almost made her have a nervous breakdown and don't even get her started on the supposed deadly cootie epidemic that broke out within the entire second grade which Clary didn't her mother telling her it was chicken pox until she was 10. Yet there were fond memories in the building as well. Clary still remembers the first time she ever dipped her fingers into the cool jar of red paint. If she could pinpoint the one moment where her passion for art began was right there in room 260 in Mrs. Bard's second grade art class when she painted her first self portrait. Of course, it had come out looking like a twig with brambles of red spirals twirling crazily outward for a small circle that was supposed to be her head but nonetheless it made Clary smile every time she walked by. It was odd how that class could inspire the more senseless pieces of art from her.

_Beauty and kindness go hand in hand. No one can really erase their impact as they will be remembered for forever. Make something beautiful, something that will last. _

Mrs. Bard wouldn't call herself Principal Jones's favorite teacher...but it should be noted that after being a teacher at this school for 30 years, dealing with messy second graders on the most hazardous subject ever- art, she had earned quite a bit of respect from the usually stoic workaholic. 30 years in the small, gray building, 30 years of rushing 7 years old to the nurse after falling off the slide when doing outdoor sketching, 30 years to see the amazing stories kids could create from a misshapen hunk of clay or the dragon they could dissect from a blob of green paint. She felt a pang of grief as she saw the back wall, the large, black letters of graffiti were almost impossible to clean and the tattered edges of the miscellaneous posters hung, heavy with moisture from the last rainy day.

It made the building look mournful, a dismal place that she; Ruth Bard had no place working at.

"What do you propose we do Ms. Bard?" Principal Jones's fatigued voice asked. "We have no money in our budget for these types of things."

"Well I'm sure there are plenty of students willing to help out their school." Ms. Bard said firmly. Principal Jones snorted.

"Who? The fifth graders? As I heard from the science teacher, they're still blowing up their volcano to the magnitude that would take out Texas. Besides, even if we could get enough students there's also the supplies, the permission forms, and the liability if someone gets hurts. I'm sorry but I don't think this can happen Ruth."

"You are so pessimistic jeez no wonder why you're not invited to the birthday parties-" Principal Jones looked up and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Birthday parties?" But Ruth went on as if she didn't hear him.

"I'm retiring this year dear, my husband has been hounding me about it lately and my doctor has been also, says bending down is too bad for my back but it's not my fault that second graders are so small! Anyway, I did not work here for the past 30 years just so I can see this school fall to shambles like this. Honestly, who would want to send their child to a school that looks like a prison? No, if I'm going out, I'm going out with a bang budget or not!" She snapped. Then she promptly spun and walked away, leaving Principal Jones sighing and rubbing his neck.

"Birthday parties?" He muttered.

"Oh my gosh Simon remember this?" Clary giggled as she ducked under the slide, feeling like she was seven years old again. Simon rolled his eyes and followed her.

"I remember, super secret detective club is in order." He said, mimicking a general's stance. Clary nudged the black protective padding away to reveal a small piece of soil.

"Remember when we used to bury our treasures here? I stole my mom's pocket mirror to bury here." She laughed.

"How could I forget? Remember our mini ant farm?"

"Yea...they all ran away after a day." They both burst out in laughter at the complete absurdity of their childhood plans. They were still chuckling when they went back into the school. It had been a while, but Clary could still trace all the halls to the cafeteria, to the bathroom where a kid got his head stuck in a toilet. It seemed so familiar but it seemed so odd to be here again. Clary was suddenly jolted out of her thoughts by Simon who was yanking at her arm.

"Hey! Isn't that Mrs. Bard?" She was waling down the hallway, her sharp gray eyes shooting in every direction. Warmth filled Clary as she saw her old art teacher.

"Hi Mrs. Bard!" Clary grinned. Mrs. Bard narrowed her eyes, the odd, red haired girl looked familiar but then again she has a lot of former students.

"I'm sorry do I know you?" Clary blushed and looked down.

"I was the girl who took the screw out of the corkboard and it collapsed." The memory dredged itself up in Mrs. Bard's mind.

"Clary! How are you dear?"

"Oh I'm good..just visiting." Mrs. Bard looked past her and straight at Simon.

"And here's Simon! How's your rat?" Simon cleared his throat remembering the disastrous show and tell day.

"He ran away four years ago...damn Scabbers" Simon muttered. Mrs. Bard laughed.

"Oh my...well it has been nice but I'm afraid I have my hands full with something."

"Oh is it anything we can help with." Mrs. Bard opened her mouth to say no but then closed it, examining the two teenagers.

"Perhaps..."

"**Official Blog for Random Acts of Kindness**"

Clary paused, stopping her typing for a moment. "Are you sure this can work? I mean who will really be interested?" Simon rolled his eyes.

"Just write it Clary. If no one comes then I guess we'll have to buy lots of paint for ourselves." Clary sighed as she set her hands to the keyboard again.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Kaelie! Two double ice mochas ASAP! Your break is almost over!" Kaelie waved her hand dismissively.

"Yea I'm coming Max." She logged into her e-mail. _Clary Fray has invited you to see her blog! _Kaelie furrowed her eyebrows as she clicked.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"So then I said-" Aline held up a hand as her phone vibrated.

"Hold on." She said as she went to check her mail. _One message from Clary Fray. _

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Alec stifled a yawn as he listened to the Wall Street drones start rambling on about stocks and the monopolization of resources. He almost cried in relief as he saw Magnus's name flash on his phone.

"Hi darling, are you free anytime soon?" Alec grinned.

"What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Well there's something Clary needs help with..."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Jace stared at the blank page, not knowing what to write. His essay had been put off for a week and now he couldn't seem to picture any words on the page. His computer binged at the arrival of an e-mail. Jace raised an eyebrow as he clicked into it.

**Official Blog for Random Acts of Kindness**

No School Left Behind:

_I know that most of you hate school, or don't have fond memories. I know that most people don't even glance at a dilapidated building at the corner but for this one- I do. I do because that was my school. School, despite what people say or want you to think, will never be one of the happiest or worst times of your life because it will be both. What's important is what you learn and what you experience because it is where you spend some of the most important years of your life. _

_ So I'm asking you, readers, writers, artists, and bloggers, everyone to donate a few hours of your weekend to help me fix up the back wall. Paints of all colors, rollers and other supplies are graciously welcomed. Everyone is welcome and encouraged. Artistic skills not required. _

Jace smiled. That essay can wait a bit longer.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clary walked by the school everyday. Her fingers grazed the freshly dried paint. The green of the grass was startling against the blue sky. It was a carefree scene with children playing jump rope in the background with the night skyShe smiled as she remembered that day this masterpiece was made. Needless to say, Clary came home covered in paint. But her heart was leaping at the crowd that appeared. The mural was done in bits but ultimately it took about 3 weeks. (It took Clary forever to convince Magnus that a sparkly colored Puff the Magic Dragon wasn't exactly a practical idea).

"This will last for generations." Clary turned around to see a satisfied Mrs. Bard standing with her hand on her hip and the other holding a paintbrush. "But where's your name?" Clary grinned as she took the paintbrush.

_Inspired by senseless acts of beauty._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: When my elementary school had their mural painted they actually accepted volunteers but I thought it would be nice for Clary to be part of the organization. **

**Loads of thanks to the wonderful Liberty Hallway for the quote and her support of this fic! Again, the link to her translation is on my profile page. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks for reading! **


	19. Checkmate

Checkmate

_The boy peered curiously at the sea of black and white. His fingers gently grazed the carvings in the piece. He was more interested in knocking them all down than placing them precariously in each box to be honest. But he had to endure this because daddy had to go to work and momma insisted that they come here. _

_ "Well? What's your next move?" His grandfather's papery hands curled around his, his rough hands, wrinkled with age which were shaking, held his soft, small ones. The boy sighed, kicking his legs up, yearning to be in the sunshine. _

_ "I don't know Grandpa...why don't you just tell me like always?" The old man chuckled. _

_ "You need to develop some patience. I'm not always there to tell you the right moves." The boy rolled his eyes._

_ "You'll always be there Grandpa." The old man looked at the boy for a moment before resetting the board. _

_ "Look here, everyone is in the right place right? Clean board, a new game of possibilities. What would be your first move?" The boy shrugged, touching a random pawn and moving it two spaces up._

_ "Are you sure? The pawn is right in the center, what if someone could get in between the lines and take the king? You're making it easy for your opponent to take the pawn." The boy rolled his eyes._

_ "It's just a pawn. It's so small...why does it matter?"_

_ "Every piece on this board matters...even the little ones. They all amount to something great. Now...which piece is your favorite?" _

_ "The rook I guess." He fingered the piece; he personally liked how it looked like a small castle tower. The old man smiled._

_ "Most people would say the knight. But I'll tell you my favorite piece is the rook too. It only goes in straight lines, as many as you want...no complication."_

_ "Grandpa, I'm bored...can't I go outside now?" He whined. The old man smiled._

_ "How about one more game Henry?" He rearranged the pieces. "Now when you-" He cleared his throat and coughed, making a low, hollow sound._

_ "Grandpa?" The old man was bent over, having a coughing fit. "Grandpa? Mom!" He yelled his hands frantically pawing, clueless at his grandfather's plaid shirt. _

_ It was on that day that Henry Branwell learned the meaning of cancer._

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Branwell?" Henry winced. His boss must've found the- "Why the hell is there oil all over the coffee maker?!"

"W-well sir..I mean-I though-I just"

"My patience is waning Branwell."

"The coffee maker could work so much more efficiently sir! I thought- if I could just tinker with it then there could be coffee in three seconds flat! No more coffee lines!"

"That wasn't your call Branwell...no you can explain to the entire office why they won't be able to get their coffee! Wait until Mr. Mortmain hears about this!" Henry's red faced boss stomped away.

Henry sighed and returned to his cubicle. This was his job- day in and day out. "Jeez, just trying to spice things up around here." He glanced at all of his coworkers. Nothing. No reaction. In a few hours, he would pack up and shove himself into an already crowded elevator. Take the R train all the way back to his closet sized apartment in Brooklyn, microwave his dinner and go to bed. Rinse and repeat. "I wonder if this was what Grandpa imagined me to be." He muttered, typing out some mindless orders.

"I can't believe this Branwell!" Henry winced as his boss slammed his file on the desk. "You missed an entire page of accounting! This will take days to sort out! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I-I'm so sorry...I can't-don't even realize how I could possibly-"

"Your apologies don't solve anything! The reputation of this company has been compromised because of a puny little office worker." His boss sighed, trying to gain control, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are suspended without pay. Don't come into work tomorrow. Get out of here before I am reminded again of what a waste of space you are."

No one even looked up as Henry packed his stuff and left.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Charlotte's Bakery was filled with the smell of fresh sticky buns. Charlotte was grappling with a large, rope of dough as the doorbell jingled, announcing Henry's arrival. Charlotte smiled sadly at his downtrodden figure.

"Hello dear, bad day?" Henry sighed, the weight of the world pushing him down into a stool.

"I almost got fired today Charlotte, pretty sure I'm going to be fired pretty soon." Charlotte fixed him a bun and a cup of steaming tea.

"Don't talk like that; I'm sure they're happy to have you there! You were always quite the number cruncher." Henry sipped from the cup, the warm drink melting away the frigid rain.

"But that's all I am to them, a number cruncher. My life is..."He sighed, "seemingly never- ending." Charlotte bit her lip.

"Hold on, I have something for you." She disappeared into the closet for a moment, before coming out with worn out chess set. The pieces were made of wood, splintered and discolored and the board was bent at a funny angle with lots of coffee stains over it but Henry holds it reverently. "I'm sorry; I know it's a little banged up..."

"No." Henry contradicted. He smiled at her, "thank you Charlotte, thank you so much." Charlotte flushed, light pink spreading into her cheeks. Henry tipped a rook over. "I haven't had one of these since I was a kid. My granddad had one you know. But then he passed and it..." He paused, remembering the flashes of hospital gowns and wrinkled fingers. "Well, I never found out what happened to it."

Charlotte smiled sympathetically and adjusted the flower in her vase. "I'm glad this one could cheer you up Henry. It belonged to my father...although I was never one for a game."

"Thanks Charlotte...you really don't know how much this means to me." He leaned over and pecked her cheek. "I'll see you later then?"

"Y-yes of course Henry. Have a nice day!" She grinned.

It was only when Henry closed the door and heard the silence that the euphoria ran out. This was his life: go to work, come home, heat up a frozen meal, go to bed. It was a rather bland existence for a man and Henry had been doing for about ten years. He fingered the used pieces. His grandfather's set had been like this.

The edges of all the pieces had left marks of dirt from the construction workers outside, from the careful, tentative, hesitations of those in the old folks home and the curious grabbing of one young boy. Each piece held someone's touch, each game was a story etched into the board. Henry traced a coffee stain, thinking of every story on this one.

The games were lonely, Henry had two different strategies running in his head and his rustiness didn't exactly help. He often ended up losing to himself or drawing a forfeit. So then, Henry decided it was time for something drastic.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

**$20 to the victor of this game**

**Make any number of moves you want**

**But the one who is on the other side of the board**

**When I am beaten will get the money**

Henry propped up the cardboard sign and leaned on the stone cold wall of tone of the supports of the Manhattan Bridge. He could smell the smoky scent of shish kabobs frying from the nearby vendors; hear the snippets of Chinese from passersby. The board was propped up; his white pawn was already in the battlefield.

He was glad he had brought a book because all he had gained were odd looks from pedestrians. A young boy had curiously approached the board once, after pushing a pawn over; he had darted off. Henry sighed before packing up his kit.

The first day had been a complete and total failure.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Henry did this for the following months, every Sunday the chessboard was set up on he hard concrete but no one dared to play. Henry kept his money in his wallet but an empty side of the board. He was halfway through the fifth book of Harry Potter before he felt someone stand over him. Bewildered, he set the book down and saw a raggedy pair of converses. His eyes followed the body up to see a whirl of red hair.

"Is the offer still up?" Henry couldn't find his voice so he just nodded. The girl grinned.

"Great. I'm Clary by the way, Clary Fray." She shook his hand.

"H-Henry Branwell." He stammered. "Please." He gestured, before realizing that there was no chair. Clary chuckled before seating herself on the cement.

"I'm terrible at chess by the way so don't blame me if I'm a bit slow."

"Chess is a mental game, it wouldn't be fun if it weren't slow." Henry said, recalling his grandfather's words. Clary bit her lip before moving her pawn forward three spaces. "That's not how it moves." Henry remarked. Clary looked at him with blank eyes.

"It's not?"

"Do-do you know how to play?" Clary laughed sheepishly.

"Well I'm a bit rusty...you know haven't played in a- yea I have no idea what I'm doing, can you please teach me?"

Henry suddenly felt a burst of enthusiasm, a student? This was even better than another player. "Of course." He quickly rearranged the pieces to their natural order. "Now here, the pawn moves only one space in any direction however..."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"So why are you out here every week?" Clary asked as she slid her rook two spaces forward.

"Well my friend gave me this set...and I never really had anyone to play with so who better than all of New York?" Henry chuckled. "My grandfather once said that chess can make friends out of enemies and I guess that's true. What better way to work out your aggression than to use up all of your mental power?" He slid the bishop three spaces diagonally.

"Your grandfather sounds like a smart man." Clary bit her lip, about to move a pawn before seeing the slight shake of Henry's head. Her hands quickly found a knight.

"He introduced me to this game. I remember I used to hate visiting him because he would always make me sit inside and play with him when all I wanted to do was run around."

"And now?" Clary slid her knight forward.

"And now, I can't of anything I want to do more than play a game with him." There was a moment of silence before Henry slid his queen into place. "Checkmate."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"So what do you do for a living?" Clary asked.

"Accountant for Mortmain Enterprises." Henry furrowed his brow, shifting his rook forward.

"Really? That must be exciting." Clary snorted.

"More like depressing. My boss isn't exactly the best person to work with."

"Well don't you have cool coworkers at least? It could be like in The Office." Clary moved her bishop 6 spaces forward.

"They don't even know my name. It's all about the money there, the number crunching. I can't even bear to use the computer because I'm so sick of hearing the sound of keystrokes. Besides, the only thing I do at the office is ruin everything with my lame inventions or fix ups."

"Come on, it can't be that bad." Clary scoffed, capturing Henry's rook.

"I once got the coffee machine to serve oil instead of coffee...and no one told my boss." Clary winced.

"Was it bad?"

"I got suspended...without pay." Henry moved his queen.

"Oh...so why don't you do something that you want to do?" Clary asked.

"I'm not good at anything...besides I'm just a waste of space anyway."

"...check." Clary said quietly.

The lessons went on for weeks, sometimes her boyfriend Jace came to see the tension in the games as Clary built her skill (though Henry found Jace more of a distraction as Clary couldn't seem to stop turning red at every move). The little group attracted attention as well, there was soon a cluster of people surrounding them, all cheering for one person or watching in awe.

"Well a deal's a deal..." Henry smiled as he handed over his twenty. "I have taught you well." Clary grinned as she stood up, ready to go with the dispersing crowd. Henry felt a twinge of sadness; he would miss his lessons with Clary.

"Don't look so down, you'll be seeing me again." Clary smiled.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The next Sunday, Henry was walking towards the bridge ready for another long wait. He was confused to hear the murmur of activity near his spot. He sprinted towards it, ready to take his place before anyone else before he stopped dead.

**Chess Lessons from the great player himself:**

**Henry Branwell**

The sign was propped up against a brand new chess set, gleaming in their novelty. He stared at it, not quite sure if this was reality when he felt a tug at his sleeve.

"Hey mister, is it true you can teach me how to play chess?"

A few blocks away Clary smiled, intertwining her fingers with Jace's warm hand. She recalled the words on that wrinkled sheet of paper:

_Never underestimate the simple joy of a board game._

* * *

><p><em><em>**A/N: I know, I'm sorry I haven't updated but here's my newest chapter! I'm still not sure when my other chapters will be coming out but I will definitely be finishing my works so look out for another chapter soon. **

**This was inspired by a walk my dad and I took through Chinatown. A man would set a game of Chinese chess up and anyone could play. However unlike Henry, they had to stay for the whole game and if they lost, they would need to give the game $10 dollars and vice versa if they won. According to my dad, no one has won...yet.**


	20. A World of Words

A World of Words

Mr. Jeremiah Silent had always prided himself in his library. Sure he was considered the "Boo Radley" of the street and honestly, he couldn't blame his neighbors. Laura had passed over two years ago, which didn't exactly make him a more social person. So he retreated deeper into his books, into the words, the characters, the worlds. Laura had always called him a bookworm, and then adjusted thick- framed glasses.

She was just about the only one who would put up with his saying that "book space is more important than living space." His thick novels and novellas would be crammed next to her vials of perfume and her sheets of math problems. If it was something that his Laura loved, it was a good number-crunching problem. That's probably why she had taught high school calculus for twenty years before the breast cancer took her.

Jeremiah shifted his weight as sank down in his large arm chair. It was an Harry Potter day with The Goblet of the Fire propped up on his lap and a steaming hot cup of pumpkin spice tea. The harsh, grey light of a rainy morning filtered through the large bay window. Jeremiah had found himself glancing at the empty rocking chair across from him and the glaringly empty tea cup in the kitchen. He sighed deeply before turning back to his book.

It was exactly half past nine when the familiar swing of his gate opening and closing announced the arrival of the paper. Jeremiah slid the book under his arm and opened the door.

"Hey Mr. Silent!" Jeremiah looked up and saw Max Lightwood propping his bike on the lamppost. Jeremiah smiled, Max was one of the few who did not think he was crazy or insane.

"Hello Max." He leaned over his fence. Max eyed the thin book under his arm.

"What are you reading?" Jeremiah laughed at his look of distaste.

"Harry Potter, I'm guessing that you're not much of a reader."

"It's just so boring!" Max sighed, "I just end up falling asleep in class." Jeremiah bit his lip as he glanced down at his worn book.

"Why don't you give this one a try, if you like it- you can keep it." Max's eyes widened.

"Really? Wow, thanks Mr. Silent!" Jeremiah smiled as Max peeled out and rode away. He returned to the silence of his house, his hands were feeling quite empty. But he smiled any way, books were meant to be read, not preserved. Besides, he had accumulated a new reading source as Max slipped his drafts of his Harry Potter fanfiction through his mail slot.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0

He had found inspiration in that one act. It was a rather odd thing really. He had found this obscure little blog written by a sixteen year old, detailing every act of kindness she had done.

_The greatest thing about kindness is that it extends to everyone, no matter who they are. Be kind to a random stranger and make their day._

He couldn't bring himself to speak personally to anyone. He always averted his eyes and looked down- it was just how he was used to interacting. But he started to give the only thing he felt was good in his life- his library. Old books would be picked out and stacked on his steps with a sign and an empty wicker basket:

**Please take one.**

**Price: a tea bag, a coin, a strip of fabric, advice or a story**

He had gotten a collection of pennies, advice on how to clean up gutters and a story about a missing cat. Each one had represented something about the person who had taken those worn books, accepted and integrated its words and meaning into their lives, treasured them as he had treasured them with Laura.

That was the point of books, for their ideas, their stories to diffuse through people, for their covers and spines to be pressed and hugged by different arms and hands. It was not to stop on the dusty shelf of an old man's library, not to be hoarded shrewdly.

It was that one day where he received two tea bags- each one of them was shoved with a foreign brew that smelled quite citrusy. They were both tied with a blue string, stapled to the paper. He was walking through Battery Park when he made the realization.

It was just the two of them, sitting next to each other on the bench. In the midst of crying babies and barking dogs- they seemed off in their own worlds of adventures. The covers seemed so familiar, the white, spidery bends across the page. But then he realized- they were his. They were his books, being read by complete strangers.

A sense of euphoria rose inside of him as he spied the blue thread being used as the bookmarks, the steaming cups of tea next to each other, hands clasped as they flipped the pages. He didn't say hello as he walked by, his lips curling into a smile. It was an image that was left inside his memory because it was so much like his own with Laura- the fiery red, haired girl with the golden eyed boy.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know, I haven't updated in a long time but classes are always hard during the first few weeks! Anyway, this actually happens at Park Slope. I got ****Girl With the Dragon Tattoo**** because it was lying on someone's doorstep for people to take. I love book lovers. **

** Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!**


	21. News about Status of the Story

Author's Note: Upcoming Chapter!

Hello my dear readers,

I am so very, unbelievably sorry that I have not posted in months...years...time flies, especially during school and college and job finding...basically life in general. I'm sorry, I hate author's notes too but I think it's worth saying that I will definitely be resuming this story and possibly finishing it this summer. Thanks for putting up with me and finals and keep an eye out for the new chapter in the coming weeks! (Hint: this one is about Jessamine!)

_Preview:_

Jessamine Lovelace found that she was not usually a very temperamental person (contrary to most people's perceptions) however, it took one call from her father to shatter her world. She chucked the phone at the wall, watching it crack into pieces as she collapsed on the floor. Her creations fanned out beneath her, swirls of color that she could once build art with, beauty, worlds built upon lace and chiffon. She grabbed a sheet and tore it, watching the rose colored seams break open, the sound echoing in her ears as she sobbed.


End file.
